


One Hundred Steps Back

by Icemaidenstory



Series: One Hundred Steps [2]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anger at people who do deserve it, Anger at people who don't deserve it, M/M, Mental Anguish, Nightmares involving rape, PTSD, Rape Aftermath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-17 21:58:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 102
Words: 309,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1403944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icemaidenstory/pseuds/Icemaidenstory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the trauma of being married to a sadistic bastard, Loki struggles to rebuild his life and be who he was before.</p><p>Thor struggles to be what Loki needs.</p><p>Odin struggles not to lose both his children forever.</p><p>Lord Fallconyr struggles with a particularly tight jar lid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Loki stood on the high dais by his mother. His eyes were turned to the far end of the room, where Thor had just entered to the cheering of the crowds.

It was his coronation day, after today, Thor would be King of Asgard.

And Loki would be the Queen.

Beside him stood a boy of 250 - just, his birthday had been a few weeks prior - and a little girl who needed to hold her brother's hand to stay close, she was only 132 and would be taken to bed as soon as the ceremony was over.

Odin stood in front of the throne of Asgard. His face was serious, but full of pride. Loki turned away from him to watch as Thor began his approach to the throne.

He had a hundred steps to make before he reached it.


	2. One Step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Perfect Moment Lost

The feeling of speed abruptly faded, as did the light. Loki blinked and found himself in Heimdall's observatory. The gatekeeper was watching him calmly.

Odin wasn't there, Loki had expected him and found his absence to be both a relief and an insult.

There was a movement by the door, and Thor appeared.

He was a little older, a little rougher. His muscles had gotten bigger and his hair was shaggy and hung down by his chin.

"Thor," Loki whispered, like a prayer that was finally answered.

"Loki," he said in his deep rumble. His gaze was intense as he took in the sight of his longed for lover.

Loki stepped forward, feeling vaguely awkward, but why? Why would he feel strange about being in Thor's arms?

Thor made as if to hug him and Loki had to pull back.

The Ink.

It was all over him, he could feel it twisting and slipping over the surface of his skin.

"Uh, um, it's good to see you," he said instead.

Thor smiled tightly. "I am happy to see you too," he said.

His words sounded strange, awkward. Why was this happening?!

"I came to escort you home, I told Mother and Father that I would do so," Thor said.

He still sounded strange and faltering.

Loki forced a smile.

"That's good, I can't wait to get back and relax with a good bath."

Maybe Thor would understand why Loki couldn't hug him yet. He would wash off the Ink and *then* they could hold one another.

The awkwardness followed them down the Bifrost and through the city to the palace.

Loki looked everywhere except Thor, he kept worrying that if he caught Thor's eye then Thor would want to kiss him, and he wasn't ready yet.

He did want to kiss Thor.

Really he did.

He just needed to be clean first.

Then they would kiss and it would be perfect.

He kept his eyes looking away.

They rode into the palace grounds and dismounted. Loki found himself on the far side of his horse away from Thor. He was glad of that, until he thought that Thor would think that he was doing it on purpose, which he was, but not for the reasons Thor would think.

Something like panic filtered through his mind.

He needed a bath, a nice, hot, bath that would soak him clean. Then Thor could have all the kisses in the world.

He smiled again nervously. Thor just stood and watched him, equally nervous.

"I've missed you Loki," Thor said softly.

Loki felt as though he'd been punched in the gut, he should be more delighted to see the love of his life, what was wrong with him?

"I've missed you too," he said, biting his lip, "just let me bath, and settle, settle back in, and we'll talk, alright?"

It was the best he could do.

Thor stepped slightly closer, but still managed to keep a fair distance between them.

"Whenever you are ready Loki, but not before, I am here for you," he said earnestly, seriously, "I care for you."

'I care for you'.

Not 'I love you'.

'I care for you'.

Oh.

Loki smiled at him. He had a great number of smiles that he'd learnt while he was gone. This one had meant 'of course Husband, everything is fine'.

"Thank you Thor, we will talk later I promise," he said, his voice as light as he could make it.

The moment he was out of Thor's sight his face crumbled. 

'I care for you'.

Thor might as well have stabbed him in the heart.


	3. Two Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Stain of the King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a short one I'm afraid, but give me time, the story will grow quickly I'm sure.

Loki scrubbed until his skin hurt. Without Fosxyr to stop him he just kept rubbing until the cloth began to turn pink, then red.

He was bleeding, Loki realised suddenly. The bath water was cold and he was bleeding, how long had he bathed?

He glanced out of the window and realised that the sky was darkening. He'd been bathing for hours, and scrubbing hard all that time.

He looked down at his reddened skin. He knew he should stop but he didn't feel clean yet.

With great difficulty he made himself climb out. He dried himself, ignoring the stinging of his skin as he dabbed the towel over his body. There were tiny droplets of blood forming over his thighs. He scowled down at himself, at the filth that still clung to him.

It wasn't fair the way that the King's stain was still present, the King was dead, his stain should have died with him. 

It seemed to grow darker and thicker when Thor was nearby, as though the King was somehow claiming Loki from beyond the grave…

No. He wouldn't let this control him. He'd go downstairs and have dinner with Thor and his parents, afterwards he and Thor would talk.

'I care for you.'

What did that even mean?


	4. Three Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silver Tongue Turned to Lead

There would be no feast to welcome Loki home. He was, after all, the grieving widow of the King of Vanaheim. It would be in poor taste to throw him a party so soon after the death of his husband.

Instead, dinner was to be small and personal, just the immediate family.

Loki entered the small private dining room and headed for the table. Frigga was already there and he smiled to see his mother.

"Loki," she greeted, rising to her feet to give him a hug. 

He could feel the sting of the fabric as she pressed against his raw skin.

"Mother," he said, feeling relief wash through him as he allowed the hug.

It was good to know that he *could* allow such things.

They sat down and waited for Thor and Odin to arrive.

"Your father is busy with his council, he may not make it tonight," Frigga said as Loki poured himself some mead.

It tasted familiar and strange at the same time. He took another sip and savoured the taste.

"His work is very important," Loki said, trying not to sound relieved at the thought that he didn't have to face his father. 

Loki had thought about what to say to Odin when he finally came home, he had imaged raging at the Aesir king, screaming at him, sometimes he imagined cutting him down with scathing wit, or throwing him from the palace with magic and letting him tumble to his death. 

But first there was something Loki needed. He had to hear Odin keep his promise, and allow Loki and Thor to be betrothed. Once Loki heard that, *then* he would yell and scream and unleash his anger.

It wasn't fair for Odin to keep him waiting like this.

It was such a relief not to have to face him.

Loki’s head was full of confusion, not a scrap of which cleared when Thor entered the room.

He looked so good, so bronzed and healthy. His travels had suited him, and Loki felt a pang of envy at the thought of Thor riding around all these years while Loki was imprisoned.

He forced himself to take a deep breath. It wasn't Thor's fault. It wouldn't be fair to blame him. Blame Odin. It was all Odin's fault.

His eyes locked with Thor's and he forced a smile to his lips as he tried to force down the turbulent feeling flowing through him.

They sat down opposite one another and began dinner.

Thor kept looking at him, then glancing away. He looked nervous.

Loki tried the roast; it was an old favourite, and one he hadn't had in centuries.

"This is delicious," he said.

Thor glanced up quickly before ducking his head again.

Frigga looked between the two of them nervously. She began talking in a bright kind of way about the court and the coming spring harvests and their expected yields.

Loki listened gratefully. Everything just felt so wrong right now. He wanted badly to go back to his chambers and shut the door. He *loved* Thor, but, somehow, that wasn't enough right now. He wanted to be alone, and he didn't even know why.

Thor made a comment about the changes that had taken place since his absence, and Loki remembered with a flash that Thor had been away too all this time.

It was so easy to forget.

"We should go riding to the lake," Loki said – no – blurted. All his elegance had seemingly deserted him.

Thor looked up at him with hope in his eyes. "Of course Loki, if you want to. We can take a picnic," he said.

His tone was strained, and Loki looked down at his meal.

Did Thor really want to go? His face screamed yes but his voice sounded so... forced somehow.

"You two can go tomorrow if you like, ease back into Asgard," Frigga said. "Take your time, there's no rush."

Loki forced an awkward smile. He and Thor were supposed to speak to one another after dinner. What if it didn't go well? The lake was where they first kissed, what if this ruined it?

Thor wasn't eating much, neither was Loki. Frigga was keeping up the chatter as she looked between her two sons.

All three of them were silently cursing Odin, who was not brave enough to face them.

Dinner ended awkwardly, with the conversation tailing off long before the food was finished. Then Frigga wished them both goodnight and gave each of them a hug.

"You two have a lot to catch up on," she said.

Loki nodded nervously. Indeed they did.

He and Thor walked slowly back to the other wing of the palace, where their respective chambers were. They were both silent as they walked side by side.

Loki desperately wanted to be alone. He didn't feel ready to talk yet. Everything was all so *wrong*. He'd been so sure that seeing Thor again would end his nightmare, but instead it felt as though it was getting worse.

He could feel the inky stuff growing over his skin again. He was sure he'd scrubbed it all away but he must have missed a spot, allowing it to grow again. Another bath before bed would fix it, it had to fix it.

"I've missed you Loki," Thor said in his deep rumble.

His eyes were on the floor in front of him as they walked.

"I've missed you too," Loki said.

Was his tone right? Did Thor understand?

"I thought about you every day," Thor said.

Loki nodded. "I got your message," he said, seizing the topic gratefully as a way to show that his feelings had not changed. "In my knife, it was such a risk, but it was perfect, it was wonderful to hear from you. I memorised it, the message. I said it to myself every night before I slept."

Thor smiled at the floor briefly, but then sobered. "I wish I could have helped you more," he said.

There was anger behind his words, enough to make Loki stop and look up at him.

"Thor-" he began.

"I should have fought harder, I should never have let you make that deal," Thor said fiercely, so much so that Loki took a step back.

Thor's eyes widened and he stopped mid-rant.

"I'm sorry Loki, I didn't mean to upset you," he said, quickly backing down.

Loki frowned in confusion, why was Thor acting like this?

"I'm fine Thor," he lied. "Truly, I just want to um, talk. Let's go into my chambers and talk."

He didn't want to talk. But he'd promised Thor, and if Thor didn't love him any more then he needed to know. 

'I care for you'

He needed to know what that meant. He needed to know why Thor was so reluctant to look at him. 

Maybe someone had told him what Loki had done with the King.

The thought was horrifying. Loki *never* wanted Thor to know, *ever*. If he knew how filthy Loki had become, how tainted and dirty... 

...he'd never want to look at Loki again.

He wasn't really looking at Loki now.

Then Thor looked up at him with a very serious expression.

"Yes Loki, we should talk," he said.


	5. Four Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Tainted Man

Loki led the way into his chambers. They were so small compared to the queen's chambers on Vanaheim. He had a single outer room with an area by the fire for sitting and relaxing, and a dining area with a small table, just big enough for four people to almost sit comfortably.

The curtains were drawn closed and the fire was lit. It looked cosy, welcoming and relaxing.

With Thor at his back Loki felt anything but relaxed. He was so stiff with tension that he thought he might faint.

"Please sit down," he said awkwardly.

He'd never had to ask Thor to sit before, the big hug-monster had always filled any space that he pleased, which was a trait that Loki found both endearing and annoying at the same time.

Now he stood awkwardly, looking between the couch and the table, before choosing the table.

Loki sat down opposite him and took a deep breath. His hands were shaking.

"Would you like some mead?" he asked.

"No thank you," Thor replied.

Silence reigned.

'Do you still want to marry me?'

It was the question he dared not ask, and yet that was the only question that he had. Did Thor still love him? Still want him? 'I care for you' But did he *love* him?

"How were your travels?" Loki asked instead.

Thor looked faintly relieved at the question, and launched into a description of his early days hunting through the forests on Midgard.

"Are they still in mud huts?" Loki asked.

"They have progressed to wooden halls," Thor said proudly, like a benevolent uncle.

"Did they worship you?" Loki asked.

He'd never been worshiped before, it sounded embarrassing, but it was to be expected every time the mortals saw an Aesir and the power they possessed.

"A little," Thor admitted. "I did not stay too long with them, but they still offered me gifts."

"What kind of gifts?" Loki asked.

"Fruit and wheat," Thor said. "A drinking horn at one place."

"How quaint," Loki commented.

This conversation was starting to irritate him, although he wasn't sure why. He had, after all, initiated it.

Maybe it was because Thor's adventure sounded more like a holiday.

Thor was squirming in his seat, he looked like a man under torture, and that just wasn't *fair*.

"I'm tired," Loki snapped. "I'm going to bed."

"Oh, um, of course, if you want to Loki, I will leave you to rest," Thor said, rising quickly.

Oh so very quickly, like he couldn't *wait* to be out of the room and away from Loki, dirty, filthy, *tainted* Loki.

He probably stank like the King too. No wonder Thor was desperate to get away.

"Will we still ride tomorrow?" Thor asked at the door, startling Loki from his dark thoughts.

He still wanted to do that? 

*Why* did he still want to do that?

"If you want to," Loki said softly.

"I do," Thor said earnestly, before pulling back as though by a rope.

His behaviour was starting to make Loki very angry.

"Fine," he snapped, "we'll go riding, see you tomorrow."

He stormed to his bedroom, not looking behind him to see if Thor left.

He walked straight through and into the bathroom. He felt horrible, sticky and grimy. He needed another bath.

Loki made the water as hot as he could bear it. He threw in half a bottle of scented soap and climbed in with a wince as the hot water stung his raw skin.

He ignored the pain and picked up a new cloth. He had to get the filth off, if he could get the filth off then everything would be fine. He'd stop being angry at Thor. He didn't *want* to be angry at Thor.

Perfect Thor.

Beautiful Thor.

Healthy, glowing, wonderful Thor.

Next to him Loki felt like a walking ooze, a nasty stain in the palace corridors. 

He scrubbed and scrubbed at his skin, determinedly reaching every last part of himself in his quest to clear the inky substance. He thought he had it last time but clearly he'd been mistaken. He had to get rid of it; it was infecting his thoughts, making him hate Thor when Thor had done nothing.

Thor had done nothing.

Loki had suffered and Thor had done nothing.

He made a vow! He had to do nothing!

It wasn't his fault.

It was all his fault.

He had to stay away, and he wrote the note!

ONE note, ONE, in all that time!

He couldn't risk more!

He damn well could have!

Stop this, please stop this, stop thinking, stop stop stop stop...

The water was cold, the sky outside was filled with stars. Loki gave his body one last wipe. Finally his skin felt clean. It stung painfully all over, but the stain was gone.

He rose and stepped onto the rug by the bath.

He'd stood on this rug before he bathed.

Like a trigger, the moment he had the though he felt the ink between his toes, climbing back up his skin from the tainted rug.

He leapt back into the bath with a cry of fear, catching his shin on the edge and tumbling headfirst into the cold water.

He scrubbed his feet and legs again, wiping away the filth. It was everywhere, everywhere he'd touched before his first bath. On the rug, on his clothes, the floor where he'd stepped, the walls where his fingers had touched...

Shaking with nerves, Loki carefully stepped out of the tub again, placing one foot against the edge of the floor where it joined the wall. It was a strange place to put a foot, and he was fairly certain that he'd never stepped there at all, let alone when he'd just gotten home.

He performed the difficult balancing act of getting his other foot out of the bath without touching any of the walls, and inched his way to a clean space in the bathroom.

There were fresh towels, and he grabbed one gratefully to dry himself off.

The whole bath looked ominous, like the inky stuff was lurking there around the edges and surrounds. Even the water gave him an uncomfortable feeling now that it had been used to wash the stuff off his skin.

Loki dried himself without taking his eyes off the other end of the room. He felt as though he was watching a wild animal and waiting for it to attack.

At least he felt clean now. He threw the towel at the bath, so as to keep all possible taint together, and then inched his way out of the room, carefully avoiding setting his feet down in the doorway, as he would have stepped there before.

Thankful that he had not yet touched the bed, Loki dug out a new nightshirt from his drawers. He carefully inspected where it had been lying in case it had come into contact with any of the clothes that he'd brought back with him from Vanaheim. They would have to go; he'd order them burnt as soon as he could without causing comment. In the meantime he would have to stay careful.

Dressed, clean and ignoring the ache from his skin, Loki crawled into bed and tried to sleep.

Tomorrow he would ask Thor if he still loved him. Tomorrow he would confront Odin and make sure he and Thor could still marry. Tomorrow he'd have the bath scoured and washed with mild acid, and those towels, they would have to go too.

Finally able to relax, Loki drifted off to sleep.


	6. Five Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feelings Untamed

The lake was two hours ride away at a brisk pace. Back in the days of their carefree youth, Thor and Loki had always left in the morning, rode slowly, and reached the lake by eleven. They had eaten a late morning tea before launching the boat and fishing the hours away until it was time to leave for home. If they caught a fish early they would return to the shore and have it for lunch. If not, they would eat the rolls and fruits that had been packed for them.

Granted they used to eat those anyway even when they did catch a fish, but then they were growing boys.

Loki stood in the stables and tried to look calm. It was early, but the food had just arrived and he was about to start packing it into their saddlebags. Thor was nowhere to be seen.

Loki wondered if he'd changed his mind and didn't want to go. Maybe he only said yes because he pitied the poor, filthy, little thing Loki had become.

A giant shadow eclipsed the doorway and Thor appeared. He smiled nervously at Loki and raised a hand in greeting.

"Good morning Loki," he said, still sounding hesitant.

"Good morning," Loki said back woodenly.

He wanted Thor to be with him, and yet every time he showed up all Loki wanted was for him to leave again. 

Loki wished he knew what was wrong with him. Thor had been his everything, his rock upon which he relied every day as he suffered at the hands of the King, but here in the flesh he just seemed so wrong.

"Shall we go?" Thor asked.

Loki nodded without saying anything and mounted his horse.

He'd had the saddle changed from the one he'd used the day before, and had made the stable hands wash the horse before he rode it. The inky stuff was *not* going to get him as long as he stayed vigilant.

The city was just starting to wake as they rode through. A number of people saw them and cheered or yelled greetings to welcome them home after so long. Thor waved to them in response. After a moment, Loki raised his hand as well and acknowledged them.

He felt strange. He wanted to run.

He held his feelings in check until they cleared the city walls, then he set a faster pace, more of a canter than a walk. Thor urged his horse to keep up.

For some reason Loki found this irritating, but he couldn't for the life of him say why. Maybe he was just sick of being surrounded by people. Maybe he just wanted to feel free.

He urged his horse to run faster, wishing that he had Lightning under him as he galloped down the road. Thor fell back, whether his horse couldn't keep up or he'd done so on purpose Loki didn't know.

He slowed before the horse could tire too much, he might want freedom but he wasn't cruel. 

Thor caught him up slowly. He still hadn't said anything.

The awkward silence continued for over an hour as they rode.

"Loki," Thor said at last.

"Yes?" Loki answered.

There was a long period of silence before Thor sighed softly.

"Nothing," he said.

Loki scowled at the landscape in front of him. Thor was riding to his side and slightly behind, which is why he couldn't see the tears that were starting to form.

'I want you to tell me you love me,' Loki thought. 'Please tell me you love me.'

They did not speak again until they reached the lake. Loki dismounted and began unpacking the saddlebags without a word. He was angry again, and wished he could just set it aside and have things the way they used to be for one lousy, horrible day.

Thor silently helped him, which he found irritating, but did not protest. They laid the food out and settled on the blanket.

The lake was beautiful that day - blue and clear stretching away under a bright sky.

Thor poured them both some mead and handed Loki a cup. His movements were gentle, timid, like he was stalking prey and did not want it to take flight.

Loki scowled.

"I'm not a bloody fragile ornament you know!" he snapped.

Thor just stared at him, still holding out the cup into empty air as Loki ignored it.

He rose from the blanket and stalked away. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to *hurt someone*, anyone, Odin. He wanted to hurt Odin. He wanted, wanted...

Loki let out a scream as he fell to his knees. He summoned power into his hands and threw it as hard as he could at the lake. The water exploded over and over again as he threw all he had into the water.

He wanted to stop feeling. Stop hurting, stop worrying. He wanted to laugh again, he wanted the pain to go go go get gone go away all away just go please go please just go can't, can't do this, can't smile, want to smile, please go-

Thor was *there* in the distance. He wasn't coming over, but he hadn't left either. Loki turned and watched him standing there as he drew in shuddering breath after shuddering breath. He would go soon, Loki was sure of it. How could he stay with something so damaged?

Thor didn't move. He stood with wide eyes as he looked at Loki, but he did not turn away.

It was Loki who turned, and headed along the lakefront, glaring at the ground as though it had personally offended him.

After a few minutes he turned to see Thor was following him.

Loki turned back and broke into a run. It was childish and stupid, he'd *asked* Thor to come here, but he wanted to run, he wanted to get away and be alone.

Thor was still following. Loki felt a rush of anger. He wanted to be alone!

He raised his arm as if to throw magic at Thor, to attack him. Thor just stood there and waited, trusting that Loki would do no such thing.

Loki dropped his arm and began to cry.

He dropped to the ground as Thor approached, curling in on himself and trying to hide the painfully obvious.

He was broken, damaged, horrible so, and Thor had no reason to still love him, no reason to want him.

There was just the softest pressure on his shoulder, just a hint of warmth.

"Loki."

Thor's voice, so warm and deep, like his arms used to be, before Loki lost them forever.

"Loki please, please, I... I want to talk to you, even if it's hard. Loki, I... I'm here for you."

Loki sobbed harder, he couldn't move, he yearned so badly for something that was beyond his reach.

The warmth stayed on his shoulder while he cried himself into exhaustion. Finally, feeling like his limbs were made of stone, Loki uncurled and looked up at Thor with lost eyes.

Thor hadn't moved the entire time. He remained kneeling by Loki's side with his hand resting on Loki's shoulder. He looked nervous, as though he didn't know what to do.

That was ridiculous, Thor always knew what to do. Loki was the one who was struggling.

"We should eat lunch now," Loki said in a raspy voice.

He wanted so desperately to pretend he hadn't done that.

Thor nodded gently. "As you wish," he said softly.

They did not talk while they ate. After a while the silence was such that the birds flew down and from where they had fled Loki's outburst and settled back onto the water.

"I have asked Father for an audience, which he has granted," Thor said suddenly. "But we can cancel it if you don't want to see him yet."

Loki frowned slightly. Cancel? Why would Thor think he'd want to cancel? It might have been the fact that a small portion of the lake now had a new edge to it, maybe Thor didn't think he was ready. 

"I want to see him," Loki said. "I need to know..." he trailed off, unwilling to finish his thought out loud.

'I need to know if he'll still let me marry you.'

He couldn't say that when he still didn't know if Thor loved him.

They did not go out fishing, only packed up their things when they were done and rode back to the palace in silence.


	7. Six Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares

Loki walked through the corridors of the Vanir palace. They were covered with paintings of scenery and ancient rulers, with marble pillars at every turn.

Musleen was standing in a doorway, he was drunk, and lifted his glass to Loki as he walked.

"You should drink the red wines," Loki said.

"I should drink all the wines," Musleen slurred, waving Loki away with a healed right hand.

Loki kept walking. He passed a couple of guards who waved him onwards, towards the King, who was waiting for him, although how Loki knew that he couldn't say.

He reached the King's chambers and went inside without knocking. Fosxyr was polishing a glass at the table under the watchful eye of Dorgen, who yawned in a bored fashion as Loki walked by.

He entered the bedroom and saw the King standing by the window. King Dimcken turned, morphing into Odin, who gestured Loki closer. 

Loki knelt at Odin's feet and then watched as Odin morphed back into Dimcken and raised his robe.

"Good boy," he murmured as he reached down and stroked Loki's hair.

Loki leaned forward, knowing what he had to do...

He jerked awake with a gasp and sucked in a huge lungful and air, only to cough reflexively as though trying to clear dream from his mouth.

He could still feel the ghost of the King's hand on his hair.

The Ink was back.

Loki shot up out of bed and fled into the bathroom. His hands shook as he tried to fill the bath. A horrible thought occurred and he ran back to the bed to grab his pillow, which was now contaminated, before the Ink could spread onto his sheets.

He tossed the pillow into the corner of the bathroom and tugged his nightshirt off. It too went into the corner, as it had brushed his hair as he removed it.

The bath only had a few inches of water in it, but Loki couldn't wait any longer. He climbed in and grabbed the soap to clean his hair.

It took a long time to scrub it all away. His scalp stung from scrubbing and there were a lot of strands of black hair floating in the bath when he was finally clean.

Relieved that all was well again, Loki climbed from the bath, carefully avoiding the rug as he couldn't remember if his nightshirt had touched it, and grabbed a clean towel.

The pillow, shirt and rug would have to go. The bath would need to be cleansed with acid again, surely if he had it done enough times then the Ink wouldn't be able to return.

The light of the day was just starting to appear on the horizon. Loki decided against going back to bed and went to find some untainted clothes to wear instead.

Today he would see Odin, confront him, demand an answer to the question of whether he had fulfilled his promise.

Would he let Loki and Thor wed? Did Thor still want to be wed to Loki given what had happened yesterday by the lake? He had *seemed* very understanding, very forgiving, but there was no way that he wouldn't be having second thoughts after what Loki had done.

Loki slumped into a chair and tried not to give in to despair. He needed to remain calm. No more outbursts, no more throwing magic at *anything*. He had to be perfect if he was going to marry Thor. One day Thor would be King and Loki would be Queen, queens were calm, composed and stately.

Well it wasn't like he'd never done that before.

Loki gasped as the thought hit him. He didn't *want* to be reminded of his time in Vanaheim. It was *over*. He wanted to forget it.

But the Queen of Asgard had to be just like the Queen of Vanaheim. The last two hundred and forty nine years had been practice.

No. Loki did *not* want to think about the similarities between the two rolls, because one similarity might lead to another, and then he might start thinking that Thor was like the King and THAT COULDN'T HAPPEN.

Ever.

Loki wouldn't let it.


	8. Seven Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The King of Cowards

Loki joined Thor after breakfast the next day. His clothes were new and untainted with the filth, all of his tainted clothing had been purged, regardless of how worn it was. The servants were probably whispering about how he'd come home with a taste for extravagance, but he didn't care. It was far more important for the taint to be removed from the palace, so that it couldn't get to him.

They waited in silence outside Odin's door.

"He's running late," Thor commented at last.

"He's been very busy lately," Loki said sarcastically.

Their father had not been to dinner with them once since Loki's homecoming. Neither of them had seen him.

"I wonder if his face is healed," Thor said.

Loki raised an eyebrow and glanced at him in query. He was determined to maintain his composure today and had very nearly perfected his old, slightly snide, way of acting.

"I hit him a few days before you came home," Thor admitted. "He said something that made me angry."

"You've never hit in anger before," Loki said. "You've brawled, fought for a cause, trained and fought in tournaments, but not in *anger*."

"Mother made me write an apology to him," Thor said. "But I do not regret it, he was wrong, and he would not listen to my words."

Loki opened his mouth to ask Thor what the argument had been about, when the door opened in front of them.

"Thor, Loki, please enter," Odin said from beyond.

They both hesitated for a moment at the sound of their father's voice before Thor shook himself and headed for the door. 

Loki realised that he was about to go into Odin's office without even finding out how Thor felt about him. His chance to ask was almost gone.

"Do you love me?" Loki blurted out at Thor's retreating back.

He wanted to snatch the words back the second he spoke, but they were out there now and could not be retrieved.

Thor stopped and turned, he looked startled at the question, but then he stepped back towards Loki and reached out his hands.

"I love you," he said. "I have loved you for centuries, for my whole life. Loki, I loved you before you were born, I just didn't know it yet. My life without you has been empty and hollow."

"Then why didn't you say so earlier?" Loki asked. 

His knees felt weak. Thor loved him, he *loved* him. It was what he had wanted more than anything.

"I didn't want to put pressure on you," Thor said, his blue eyes staring into Loki's green.

They were close enough to kiss now, if they wanted to.

"After being forced to, to marry that man, I thought you might want space, I never want you to feel forced with me Loki, I love you, it would kill me to think that I might put pressure on you to do things that you aren't ready for."

"You could never hurt me," Loki whispered.

There was a call from beyond the door but they both ignored it.

Thor gently reached up and cupped Loki's face with his hand.

"I never want to," he said. "I love you Loki, you have my heart, never doubt that."

Loki took a breath to steel himself, lean forward and kissed Thor gently on the lips. It didn't feel like it did with the King, it was softer, warmer, delicate in its tenderness. Thor matched his pressure exactly, not pushing, but not pulling away.

Odin appeared at the door, frustrated by their lack of appearance.

"Are you two coming in?" he asked.

Thor turned and faced him, gently putting an arm around Loki's waist.

"Has Loki fulfilled the vow? Can we marry if we choose?" he asked bluntly.

Odin's lips pinched together and for a moment Loki's heart jumped in fear.

"Yes," he said abruptly. "He has fulfilled his end of the vow, you may marry each other if you choose to."

"And you won't try to marry either one of us off in the meantime? Should we choose to take our time?" Thor pressed.

Odin sighed in annoyance. "No, I won't. Loki has kept his promise and I shall keep mine, now come inside so that we might talk properly," he said.

"There is nothing more we have to discuss," Thor said curtly.

He turned and guided Loki away from their father's office, leaving Odin standing in the doorway alone.

"Would you like to go somewhere and talk now?" Thor asked. "Or if you prefer to be alone I can-"

"No, let us talk. I, I have things I must tell you, things you must know," Loki said.

His chest felt strange, tight and bursting with energy at the same time.

Thor loved him.

Thor *loved* him.

Thor loved *him*.

They could get married, Odin said so, they could get married right away. Loki almost turned to Thor to ask if they could marry tomorrow, but he hesitated.

It might be better to talk first. But for the first time since coming home, Loki felt a spark of happiness.

Thor loved him.

"I love you too, you know that don't you?" Loki said suddenly.

Thor looked at him with a smile that warmed Loki's whole world.

"I know, but I am glad to hear you say it," he said.

They made their way down to one of the gardens and settled on one of the stone seats that were traditionally placed in the corners for lovers to whisper to one another.

Loki's heart was pounding again. He *wanted* to tell Thor everything, but, equally strongly, he wanted to preserve the fragile link they had managed to establish. There was no telling how Thor would react to what Loki had done.

Thor carefully took Loki's hand in his and held it. He looked nervous again.

"Please know Loki that I will always love you," he said. "I want you to be happy, even at the expense of my own happiness if that is what it takes. I know that you may need time to adjust a-and settle back into Asgard. I want you to take all the time you need. I will follow your lead, and, if you feel comfortable, I am willing to listen to you, when you are ready."

To be honest, Loki was suspicious. Thor sounded almost too perfect. How could he make an offer that was exactly what Loki wanted? It would be wonderful to believe that Thor had come up with this on his own, but Loki was too shrewd not to suspect outside involvement.

Mother, it had to be, she must have spoken to Thor, told him to go slowly and be gentle. Loki felt torn between gratitude, annoyance and fear. Gratitude - because he did not have to try and explain why he wasn't tumbling back into Thor's open arms the second he returned home, annoyance - because she had interfered without asking him, and fear - because she could have told Thor anything.

For now he linked his fingers with Thor's and allowed himself the luxury of a moment. He wanted to feel safe and secure, with no thought of the past and the pain it had caused him.

Thor sat quietly with him, not trying to force him or rush him, just waiting patiently.

Loki took a deep breath. This was going to hurt.

"It wasn't what I thought it would be," he said at last. "I, I thought I would be playing nursemaid to an old man, I thought I'd be like a silly doll, dressed up to smile and wave but put away again when I wasn't needed. I thought I would spend my time reading and studying my magic, I thought I'd be bored."

Thor gave his hand a gentle squeeze, just enough to show that he was listening, but he didn't say anything, just waited for Loki to continue.

"It wasn't like that," Loki forced out. "It wasn't, um, there was, there were things, um, I don't want to -"

"It's okay Loki, you can stop if you need to," Thor said gently. 

"Tell me about your travels," Loki said suddenly. "You left to seek the Emerald, you went to Midgard, where else did you go, tell me about it."

He was practically pleading. He didn't want to think about what had happened to him. He wanted to bury it and never think about it again.

Thor gave his hand another gentle squeeze. "Alright, I'll tell you about where I went first," he said.

"We left the day after you did, the Warriors Three and the Lady Sif came with me. I had found evidence of an enchanted stone-"

"The Emerald."

"Yes, I did not know that you knew about it."

"I heard very little of your travels, but that filtered through. The Vanir thought you were mad. Their expression 'I'm off to seek the Emerald' means they are going on a holiday."

"Well I was determined to really find it."

"Nothing like a hopeless quest to keep you from Asgard," Loki said.

Thor expression became unreadable.

"I certainly intended to stay away as long as you were not here," he said. "Our quest began in Jotunheim-"

"Jotunheim!"

"Yes, we were careful, as silent as we could be. There were rumours about the Last Seer having wed a Jotun and having a child whose descendants lived there, so we went in search of them."

Loki leaned in slightly and carefully settled himself against Thor's body. Thor slowly curled an arm around his waist, leaving plenty of room to pull away if Loki needed to.

"Then what happened?" Loki asked.

"For three long weeks we travelled under the cover of darkness, braving the cold and the ice to reach the small town of Utcid, where we bribed a hunter into telling us that the descendant we sought had moved away. We double-checked the town of course, in case they were lying, but the family had indeed moved away. The hunter said that they had moved four generations earlier to the City of Utgard to find work. But we were determined to find them."

"I'll bet I can list the order of most determined to least determined," Loki said.

Thor smiled at him.

"Oh?"

"Yes, you, and then everybody else."

Thor chuckled, Loki could feel the laugh through his chest.

"Perhaps I was a bit enthusiastic at this stage, I believed my quest would be both quick and easily accomplished. I was wrong," he added, as a look of sorrow past over his face.

"Did you find them in Utgard?" Loki asked.

Thor blinked away his sombre expression and gave Loki a smile.

"First we had to get there," he said.

For the rest of the afternoon Thor described the terrible chills they faced, the storms they weathered, and the people they tried hard to avoid (mostly). Loki sat back and listened to him talk.

One day he would have to tell Thor everything, but not today, today could stay unspoilt. Thor loved him. Things would be okay.


	9. Eight Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Helping Hand - Refused

It wasn't until the following morning that Loki realised that he'd said nothing to Odin. 

He'd let Thor take the lead, but then, he always had. Thor was the loud one, the forward one. Loki only ever spoke when Thor had finished, usually to clinch whatever deal they were trying to achieve.

Their meeting with Odin had been just like old times, Thor took the lead, and, having gotten the result that they were after, there was no need for Loki to speak.

If he was completely honest with himself, Loki was grateful. He had imagined a meeting with his father many times, but to scream at his father the sheer number of tortures he had been forced to endure when he couldn't even confide them in Thor, that was impossible right now.

Maybe he'd never be able to do it.

Maybe that was best. He should just bury what had happened. Push it down until it wasn't there anymore. 

It was good that Thor was taking the lead, it kept Loki from doing something foolish.

Except Thor wasn't taking the lead with him.

Thor was letting Loki set the pace, letting Loki decide when to talk, letting Loki come to him. When had Thor changed?

*Why* had Thor changed? 

Thor knew.

But how much could he know? Loki hadn't told his mother everything, that would have only worried her. She knew enough as it was.

She must have told Thor everything she knew, and he had decided to let Loki lead their way together as a result.

It was a strange sensation. Something like terrified relief. He could go slowly, take his time, but what if he took too long and Thor lost interest? How would he know if Thor didn't say?

Loki bit his lip and stared into the distance.

It was all up to him.

Why did it have to be up to him?

Why couldn't Thor take the lead the way he always had, and just make Loki better? Hadn't he felt better with Thor's arm around his waist?

The light had grown, it was almost time for breakfast. Loki rose and made his way into his living room to wait for the servant to bring it in. He felt troubled and he felt sick of feeling trouble at the same time. He just wanted to stop now, stop and be the way he had been before the King got his dirty hands on him.

****

It was an hour after breakfast that Loki got a knock on his door.

He rose and pulled it open, revealing Eir, who gave him a tight smile in greeting.

"Loki," she greeted him.

"Eir," he replied as he stood back to let her in. "What has brought you here so early in the morning?"

She stood with her hands clasped as her face turned serious.

"I have heard news about you that I find worrying Loki, I have come to talk to you about it," she said.

Loki immediately thought of Thor by the Lake and felt a stab of betrayal.

"I'm not unwell," he said carefully.

Eir's face was determined. 

"Do you fear illness?" she asked him.

Loki paused, why would she ask him that?

"No," he answered carefully, scanning her words and face for any sign of hidden meaning.

"Your servants have mentioned that you had the bath cleansed with acid twice in two days. You had them wash your horse, and you have had destroyed your clothes from Vanaheim," she continued.

Loki sat down and gestured for her to do the same.

"I just want things to be clean," he said. "Maybe I'm fussy, maybe they keep things cleaner in Vanaheim and I have grown used to such things."

It was a challenge, but she did not rise to it.

"Perhaps," she said evenly. "But if it were not that, if it were something else, something... mental..?"

She let her words trail off. Loki looked at her in alarm.

"I'm not mad," he whispered.

"I didn't say you were, you know as well as I do that there are things that can affect someone's mental state, does battle-sickness make someone mad? Does the darkmood? Or amnesia?"

"No," Loki said quietly. "But-"

Eir sat there and waited for him to finish, but he couldn't, not without sounding horrible.

What he wanted to say was that it was fine for those people to have problems, it wasn't their fault and of course they should be helped. But him? He was supposed to be *better* than that, above it, stronger. Mental trouble did not happen to Loki.

But Eir had spent years teaching him about the mental sicknesses and their causes. She'd give him a long lecture about looking down on people if he admitted that he'd thought himself above such things.

"I just want things clean," he said, knowing Eir didn't believe him.

She held his gaze for a long time before nodding, not in agreement, but in temporary defeat.

"I am always available to talk to you if you need it Loki," she said. "I have been a healer for a long time, you know you can trust me."

"I know," Loki said, "I don't need to talk."

She rose, still holding his gaze, still giving him one last chance to say something.

Loki stayed silent.


	10. Nine Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Restless Fight

It was the afternoon when Loki entered the training yard. There were a large number of warriors sparring, and they barely gave him a glance as he made his way to the weapons storage.

He wanted very badly to hit something. The feeling had been building all morning, and lunch alone had not helped any.

Thor had asked him to dinner and he had accepted, but all that did was make him nervous and jumpy.

Would they talk again? Would Thor want to know more about, about Vanaheim? He said he'd wait until Loki was ready, what if Loki was never ready?

To put those thoughts out of his mind, Loki grabbed a spear and went in search of violence.

Luck was with him, Fandral was sparring with a warrior Loki didn't recognise. He would do to start with.

Loki stood by the side of the fighting ring and leaned on his spear as he waited.

Fandral wouldn't know anything. He'd just be a good opponent, like Musleen was.

Loki realised that he missed the second Prince of Vanaheim. It had only been a few days, but he wanted to know what had happened with him and Daenceia. Had they gone to dinner? Had it gone well? They had been in love for so long, surely it would all work out.

He'd have to write to Camtan and find out. Musleen treated letters like an exercise in cryptography, he'd be married with eight children before he let slip that their first meal together had been a success. But Camtan would tell Loki everything.

"Loki!" Fandral called out. He had won his fight and turned to see Loki standing there, apparently lost in thought. "Are you here to spar?"

"I am, if you can handle it," Loki said with a smile.

Fandral nodded. "Let me get some water, then we shall see how out of shape you are," he said cheerfully and jogged to the water barrels at the side of the training grounds.

Loki watched him run. He could take Fandral, his life in Vanaheim hadn't been *completely* idle.

Fandral returned and gave Loki a flirtatious grin, although Fandral would have called it just a 'welcoming smile'.

Loki returned it with a challenging one of his own and they stepped into the ring to begin.

The Aesir fought slightly differently to the Vanir, Loki noticed as they began to trade blows. The Aesir favoured hard strikes and crashing blows, whereas the Vanir tended towards faster, but weaker, cuts and strikes.

Loki fought with a mixture of both as he parried Fandral’s blows easily.

"Right," Fandral said, noting that he was making no impact, "no more holding back."

He increased his efforts, and Loki had to start concentrating to beat him. They fought back and forth for a while as they wore down one another's strength, before finally Loki saw an opening and took it, striking Fandral in the ribs and sending him flying backwards with a grunt as the air left his lungs.

"Good... blow..." Fandral wheezed.

Loki held his staff out for Fandral to clasp. He hauled Fandral back to his feet.

"Good match," Loki said.

He meant it too, Fandral had been challenging, but ultimately not good enough. In Loki's opinion that was the best kind of opponent.

"I'll get you next time," Fandral said as they walked to the water barrels.

Loki took a drink instead of replying.

"We're going out to the taverns tonight, the old gang, do you want to come?" Fandral asked him.

Loki nodded. "Thor and I are having dinner, but afterwards, of course," he said, feeling optimistic.

Fandral nodded. "Meet you at the Goat's Rest then," he said. He went to put his weapon away, but paused to add: “We’re glad to see you back, you must have been bored stupid in Vanaheim.”

For a moment there was nothing Loki could say. It was such a *stupid* comment, but really, how was Fandral to know what really went on? How was anyone? They *all* thought he’d spent his days sitting around doing nothing, playing at being a queen, for what kind of queen did a King as old as that really need?

What kind indeed?

“I made some friends there who kept me amused,” Loki said.

He felt as though his voice was coming from someone else, it sounded exactly as steady as he was not.

Fandral nodded at him. “You’ll have to invite them over for some sparring one day,” he said and headed away.

Loki thought about challenging one of the others, but decided against it, he felt too unsettled. He'd go inside and find his mother, they hadn't had a chance to talk properly since he came home, and he wanted to ask her what she told Thor.

Nervousness building in his stomach, Loki headed inside.


	11. Ten Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mother

Frigga's eyes lit up at the sight of her son, only to crinkle in concern at the pain he was trying to hide.

"Loki, baby," she whispered and pulled him into a hug.

Until that moment, Loki didn't realise how much he needed one.

"I'm all mixed up," he blurted out, clinging to her hard. "I feel angry and scared and sad and strange all at once."

"Oh my baby boy," Frigga repeated. She hugged him tighter. "I was so hoping that coming home would be easier for you." She pulled back and cupped his face with her hand. "Although I suspected it wouldn't be. Sit down Loki, sit down and talk to me."

They sat on her couch and Loki rested his head against her shoulder. 

Why could he not be so free with Thor? He'd *love* to rest his head on Thor's shoulder, but something inside of him just wouldn't relax.

"Thor knows something," Loki said.

Frigga's hand, which had been stroking his hair gently, paused just a fraction.

"What did you tell him?" Loki continued.

"Nothing of consequence," Frigga said.

Loki sat up to glare at her, but her expression of confusion was genuine.

"I told him to give you time to readjust to being back at home. I said that you were not happy in Vanaheim and that you would need time to be free. I said nothing specific of what you had to endure, that is not for me to reveal," Frigga said.

Loki frowned. "Did you tell Eir?" he asked.

Frigga looked guilty. "You know what is said to the healers they keep in confidence," she said at last.

"Eir came to me this morning, asking if I needed her help," Loki said snappishly. "The servants have been gossiping about me."

"Why? What have you been going through?" Frigga asked at once, concern in her eyes as she reached out to him once again.

Loki allowed himself to be pulled back into her arms. He rested his head against her shoulder and tried to relax.

"You wouldn't understand it," he muttered, "but I needed some things cleaned."

"Like what?"

"My bath...room, and all my clothes from Vanaheim, my pillow, my horse, my saddle and bridle, quite a few things actually. But they needed it!" he exclaimed suddenly, changing from calm to excited in the blink of an eye. "Mother they were filthy, truly filthy, I *had* to have them cleaned."

Frigga nodded gently with worry in her expression. "I love you dearly my son," she said, "I want you to be happy in your life, I want you to be safe and secure, and above all things I am on your side, so when I ask you this, I want you to remember that."

"Ask me what?" Loki said, suspicious.

"Were the things you had cleaned actually dirty? Or was it a filth only you could see?" Frigga asked him levelly.

Loki paled, he didn't say anything.

Frigga sighed gently as tears sprung into her eyes, and she pulled him back into her arms. "Oh my baby boy, I'm so sorry that I failed you."

Loki frowned in her arms. 

"You didn't fail me-" he began.

"I did and I will never forgive myself. I should have taken you back the second I found out what that bastard was capable of, but I let your father rule me, I let him convince me that you would be fine, that that *scum* was an old man who could not harm you. I failed you in every way possible and I will not fail you again."

It was her turn to pull away as she looked him in the eye.

"You need to go to Eir as soon as possible Loki, you need more than just a gently homecoming," she said firmly.

Loki pulled back from her in a panic.

"No, Mother, no I'll be fine, I'm not sick, I don't need that," he gabbled.

Frigga held her arms out again but he did not go to them.

"Loki-" she said.

"No. Mother, no I'm fine, I will be fine, it's all clean now anyway, I'm fine, it's fixed I promise, don't tell Thor, anyone, please I'm *fine*." Loki insisted as he stood up and backed away from her.

He couldn't be mad, mad people could not marry the crown prince, if he was mad, then he could not have Thor. 

He couldn't be mad.

Frigga put her hands down and looked at him with sadness in her eyes.

"I am here if you need me Loki, and I will not say a word," she promised.

"Not even Eir?"

"Not even Eir."

"Who told Thor? He knows something, I can tell."

"It was not me, it would never be Eir."

"Grandfather, or Grandmother, it had to be," Loki said. "They shouldn't have done it, but it's alright, I'm alright now. I'll show you."

Frigga was still looking at him with the same sad expression.

"Alright Loki, you show me," she said.

Loki nodded at her and practically fled from the room.

Frigga's mask broke as she bent her head to cry.


	12. Eleven Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Power of Fear

Thor was cheerful that night, giving Loki a broad smile. He leaned in slightly towards Loki as though to kiss him, but waited until Loki completed the movement.

Loki took the invitation, giving Thor a quick kiss on the lips.

"I saw Fandral today," he said.

"Oh yes?"

"Out in the training yards. I beat him."

"Of course."

"He said that our friends are going out to the Goat's Rest tonight, and that we could join them if we wanted to."

"Do you?"

"Yes, do you?"

"Always. It'll be fun."

As they sat, Loki felt a brief spark of happiness at the fact that he did not have to ask permission to go out. No one was monitoring his comings and goings. It was a good feeling.

"I spoke to Father again today," Thor said. 

Loki tensed.

"What about?" he asked.

"He wants me to start taking more of an interest in the running of Asgard, joining councils and going on diplomatic visits."

Loki scowled.

"Do you think I shouldn't?" Thor asked, seeing his expression.

"No," Loki sighed, "it's probably time you did. It's just, freedom is so fleeting, I want us to enjoy our time together without one of us being tied down."

"Then I will tell him no," Thor said simply. "We are both young men, I will do it in a few years, maybe a few decades."

And just like that Thor decided his future course of action on Loki's opinion.

Loki felt tense for the rest of the meal. What if Thor was making a mistake? What if he delayed too long and didn't get a proper understanding of politics? What if Loki was blamed for Thor's reluctance to take this next step in his life? 

Thor seemed to notice that something was wrong. He watched Loki carefully from the other side of the table as they ate.

"Are you bothered by something?" he asked at last. "Can you tell me what it is?"

Loki shook his head.

"As you wish," Thor said.

Loki scowled. "What if it's not what you wish?" he snapped. "What if you do what I want and it goes wrong? What if I ruin you?"

Thor was up and at his side in a heartbeat. He carefully took both of Loki's hands and held them in a gentle grip.

"I will always respect your opinion Loki, but I make my own decisions," he said firmly. "Please trust me, and trust that you cannot ruin me."

"But what if I can?" Loki asked. "You don't know everything, I'm..."

He couldn't say it. He *wanted* to say it, but it was so hard to confess.

He was ruined, broken and damaged. He would be a terrible match for Thor.

He couldn't marry Thor, it would ruin him.

"I have to go," Loki whispered and pushed Thor aside.

He ran from the room and back to his chambers, shaking all the while from his horrible realisation.

He couldn't marry Thor.

How could he even think that such a thing was possible? He had a mental problem, a real mental problem that he couldn't even hope to conquer. He was so damaged that it was almost cruel to act as though there was even a chance that he might be a good queen one day.

Loki slumped to the floor as he gave in to his despair. 

This was Odin's joke, his cruel humour, promising Loki paradise while ensuring that he would be made unworthy to reach it. 

There was a knock at the door.

"Loki? Loki please, let me in. You can talk to me, I promise I will just listen," Thor called from the other side.

Loki choked on his sobs. How could Thor do this? How could he be so understanding? How could he act like there was even a *chance?*

Loki pulled power into his hand and threw it at the door. It wasn't hard enough to break it, just hard enough to make an almighty bang.

"Go away!" Loki screamed after it.

"Loki."

"Go! I don't want you here! GO!" Loki screamed.

There was silence from beyond the door, then:

"I'll be here when you need me," Thor said.

Loki stared at the door for a few seconds as the silence ticked by. It had worked, he'd driven Thor away, it was for his own good, Loki could see that now.

It hurt though, and it had only taken a single throw.

Loki supposed that he mustn't be worth more than that.

Feeling dejected, Loki crawled slowly into his bedroom and shut the door behind him. He didn't feel like going out, he didn't feel like doing anything except crawling into bed and never getting out again.


	13. Twelve Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Internal Struggles

The following morning Loki scrubbed until his skin stung. He felt dirty again, as though the Ink was sitting somewhere just beyond reach but could slide forward at any second to touch him if he let down his guard.

He moved mechanically though his dressing, touching the first garment to ensure any dirt leapt off of him and onto it, touching the second to get the last of it, then taking the third and putting it on. The first two he would have destroyed, it was the only way.

He didn't want to think about last night. His horrifying realisation was too much to handle all at once. Instead, he promised himself that he wouldn't see Thor *today*. Just today, if he believed it was only temporary then he could survive it, and then tomorrow he would do it again, and again, and again for the rest of his life.

Thor was far too precious for Loki so selfishly taint him. 

Loki decided to go to the library and spend the day researching places where he could go and live alone, so that he couldn't hurt anyone with the Ink.

It was hovering, he could feel it.

He went and washed his hands, in order to keep it at bay, then stepped out of his chambers.

Thor was sitting against the door. He fell backwards as Loki pulled it open.

"Thor!"

"Loki! Are you alright? I didn't want to leave until I was sure-"

"You sat here *all night*?!"

"Well, yes. But that's not important, are you alright? Can I do anything to help you?"

"NO! No, Thor, no you... you shouldn't be here, you should be seeing your friends, I'm going to go to the library, you go and have breakfast and spar or something."

"Loki, please talk to me, tell me what you are thinking. You can tell me anything, I promise," Thor said earnestly, his blue eyes boring into Loki's green.

'No I can't,' Loki thought. 'Not anything.'

"Go and have breakfast Thor," he said softly as he turned away. "I have things to do."

It hurt to dismiss him like that, but it was for Thor's own good. How could Loki have thought for even a second that they could be together? Thor deserved far better than a broken, filthy, *tainted* thing like Loki. 

The sooner he left Asgard the better.

****

Thor went straight to Eir.

"He's pushing me away," he said, once her office door was closed. "We were making progress and then he just pushed me away completely."

"That's normal," Eir replied immediately. "What did I tell you?"

"Don't take anything personally," Thor said, in a tone that made it clear he'd been told it more than once. "I *know* that, but he just lost control completely last night, and then this morning he was so distant. He told me to go away."

"If even half of what you saw was true Thor then Loki is in a very fragile state. To be honest, right now he doesn't know what he wants. If he asked you to back off then my recommendation is that you should do so, but make it clear that you are there if he needs you. Give him a little time, and then ask him to come to dinner with you and Queen Frigga, go gently."

Thor dropped his head into his hands. "I'm trying Eir," he said. "But I just want to gather him up and hold him until he's better. I want to *make* him feel alright. I know I can't," he said quickly, holding up a hand to stop Eir from saying as much, "but I want to. I love him, and it is killing me to watch him struggle. I failed him Eir, so badly. I didn't stand up to Father, I took too long to find a solution, the solution I did find didn't do what I thought it would do. At every turn I failed him, I *can't* do it again."

"Listen to me. There is *nothing* you can do to make Loki get better. He has to do it himself. What you *can* do is what you are doing. Be there for him, be a safe place for his emotions, stay calm when he rages and tell him you love him when it's over. I told you this would not be an easy thing to do."

"I know, and I *want* to do it. I love Loki, that's why it's killing me to see him like this," Thor said.

Eir sat down opposite him and reached out a hand.

"It's early days Thor, stay strong, for yourself as well as for Loki. In fact, if you are certain that Loki wants space today, I would recommend that you go out and spend some time with your friends, unwind a little, spar away some stress, do something to give yourself a break."

"He's only been back three days and already I need a break, what kind of a man am I?" Thor asked.

Eir sighed gently. "A real one, now go and find your friends. Loki is not entirely unwatched, the librarian will be on alert by now, *everyone* is, the way the servants have been talking."

"Loki will hate that," Thor rumbled.

"You can't stop people from talking, especially if they are concerned. Go and take a break Thor, we will keep an eye on Loki," Eir promised.

Shoulders still slumped, Thor headed out to find his friends.


	14. Thirteen Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Dangerous Overreaction

There were not a lot of places a Prince could go to live without causing problems, Loki discovered. He had suspected as much, but his preliminary research only reinforced this view. He could probably hide out on Midgard, but did he really want to live among the primitives?

Given his current state of filth, it might be the best place for him, which was a depressing thought.

Instead he found himself drifting to the seidr books. Maybe if he found a way to banish the Ink then he wouldn't have to leave. He could be clean again and stay with Thor.

He really wanted to stay with Thor.

Somehow, the King must have cursed Loki before his death, it was the only explanation for why the Ink would persist afterwards. 

A sly little voice in the back of Loki's mind whispered that a curse wasn't the *only* explanation. 

Loki dismissed it. There was nothing wrong with him, he was stronger than that. Had he not kept his composure for almost two hundred and fifty years? Had he not fought against the rebels? Endured the King's touch night after night without complaint? It was over, if he was going to be damaged then it would have happened much earlier, not now, when he was home and safe.

It was a curse, and the sooner he broke it the better he would feel, and if he *couldn't* break it, *then* he would find a place away from Asgard where he might keep such a terrible thing from harming anyone else.

He could really use the library on Vanaheim right now, the Aesir palace library was not the greatest collection when it came to seidr. As a nation, Asgard had always undervalued it.

The coronation was taking palace in three months, Loki could go back there then, take some time to visit the Tower and do some research.

Three months was a long time though. He needed to be careful until then, to minimise his exposure to Thor, it was only good luck that had kept the Ink at bay when they had kissed. Loki couldn't risk it again.

Maybe he could go camping alone for a while, stay out of the palace entirely and thus keep Thor safe.

"Loki? Are you alright? Are you looking for something?"

The voice broke into his thoughts, Loki turned and realised that it was the librarian.

"I'm fine," he said quickly.

"You were staring into the distance for a while there, I thought you might have needed help locating something," she said.

Loki shook his head. "Just lost in my thoughts, I'm fine," he said quickly, and moved on.

He couldn't afford any lapses like that, unless the Ink was affecting his thoughts now, slowing him down. Maybe it was a mind control! Like Rohundia had done all those years ago.

Loki sat down with a frown on his face. He had not thought of her in years. In his mind's eye he could still remember her still form as she lay there in the court room, breathing, but gone.

Loki wondered if the Ink would send him the same way. There had been more than a few moments since coming home that he'd felt... disconnected from it all, distant. Maybe the Ink would just keep pulling at him until he drifted away entirely, leaving behind a shell.

'You know what this is, stop fighting it,' said the voice in his head. 'Give up and go to Eir.'

Loki squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to silence his thoughts. He was not sick, he was not *weak*, he was cursed, plain and simple. He would find a way to solve this and then everything would be alright.

He opened his eyes and scowled at the room. Useless, utterly useless, Asgard's distain for seidr was pathetic. *Asgard* was pathetic, led by a bastard who happily sold his sons to other bastards. It would be better if they all bloody burned.

Angry, and unable to express his feelings properly, Loki slammed the books onto the table and stormed out of the library.

In Odin's office far away upstairs, the inkwell shattered as though blown apart from the inside.

****

Loki headed for the stables. He wanted to run, no, flee, he wanted to flee this place and all it contained, and he was angry that he wanted to do so. He was Loki of Asgard! He shouldn't be fleeing from anything.

But he was choking in here, he had to get out.

He inspected his horse carefully but found no sign of the Ink. He chose the third saddle he touched, just in case, and rode out of the front gates.

Once free of the city he let the horse gallop, riding as fast as he could until the horse under him began to labour. 

Loki scowled in annoyance. Lightning wouldn't have tired so easily. He began to regret leaving the horse behind. 

Maybe he could send for him. They could go travelling together across the nine realms.

Now there was a thought. Loki had never travelled. He *did* say that he wanted to, but instead he had come straight back home after his marriage ended and practically jumped straight into another one.

There was too much to think about, and all of it made him angry. He wanted to stop feeling angry, stop feeling anything really, just for a little while. It was exhausting to live like this, and yet he couldn't seem to stop.

Loki let the horse wander for a while, making his way through the fields and over the gentle hills. After a while the calm of the day began to sink into him, allowing his to relax just a little.

There was a fence coming up, it was not very high, the horse could probably jump it.

Feeling slightly reckless and a little bit more alive, Loki lined the horse up and began to ride.

He was just beginning the leap when he heard the shout. Even then it didn't register until halfway through the jump, when Thor grabbed him from the saddle and pulled him into the air.

The horse made it to the other side and began bucking wildly in fright. Loki looked down below him in shock before turning to face Thor, his features creasing up in anger.

"What the bloody hell are you doing!" he shouted.

Thor's face was full of concern. "What were *you* doing?" he answered. "You can't go doing that Loki, you can't, I'm here for you! I'll help you!"

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Loki screamed at him. "Put me down right now! Were you *following* me? And what do you mean I can't do this? I'm not yours to control!"

His voice was growing hysterical, and, despite their current height, he began to struggle in Thor's arms.

"Let me down!" he screamed, "Let me down now!"

"Alright Loki, I'm doing it, I'm doing it, don't struggle, please," Thor pleaded. "I'm sorry, I thought... I'm sorry, I panicked, I can't lose you."

They landed, and Loki shoved Thor away from him. 

Thor stood there silently and waited, saying nothing.

"Do you have to monitor my every move?" Loki snapped. "Do you need to keep watch over me? Is that what you do? Is that what I face with you? As your *wife*?"

"No, Loki, it wasn't like that. I came to find you-"

"You can't let me be by myself!" Loki shrieked.

"I was asked to find you by Mother!" Thor shouted, "She was hoping you would have lunch with her, but could find you nowhere. I asked Heimdall for her, and then flew out here to tell you."

There was silence in the field.

"Why did you snatch me from my horse's back?" Loki asked at last.

Thor immediately looked guilty. "I thought... I thought you looked unbalanced, I worried you might fall and hurt yourself, I'm sorry Loki I acted without thinking," Thor said.

"Clearly," Loki snapped, although his anger seemed to have blown itself out, leaving behind a prickly, spiteful thing in its place.

Thor hung his head.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I will go, um, will you return to see mother? I'll let her know you decision."

Loki thought about the fields, and how good it had felt to be alone and free.

"Yes," he said with a sigh. "I will come and have lunch with her."

Thor nodded. "I'll tell her now," he said, "I really am sorry Loki, I should have trusted that you were alright."

Loki looked away from him. "I'm fine Thor, I have some things to work out, but I'm fine," he said.

Thor nodded slowly. "I love you," he said, and took off into the sky.

Loki watched him go with a small frown on his face. It slowly softened and smoothed out.

"I love you too," he said softly.

Then he went and fetched the horse so that he could ride back to the palace.

****

Thor hit the balcony at speed and stumbled to a halt in front of his surprised mother.

"I need you to have lunch with Loki," he said.

Frigga raised her eyebrows in silent interrogation.

Thor knelt at her feet.

"I told him that you sent me to deliver the message that you wished to have lunch."

"You lied to him," Frigga said plainly.

Thor nodded shamefully. "I tried to stay away as he requested, but when I heard the servants saying that he'd gone out riding alone I panicked. Mother, I thought that he would do something reckless. I flew after him and ruined everything! *Please* help me fix it."

Frigga looked at him for a long time. Her face was serious.

"Thor you cannot lie to him, you are betraying his trust."

"I know," Thor said softly. "I worry about him constantly, I cannot think for fear. I want him to be well."

"We all want him to be well Thor, but this is not the way to do it," Frigga said. She gave a sigh. "However, just this *one* time, I will do as you ask. But you have to promise me that you will not lie to him again."

"I promise Mother, thank you," Thor said, rising to his feet. "I will talk to him tonight, if he will let me."

Frigga nodded. "I know it's hard for you, Thor," she said. "You are a man of actions and grand gestures. Watching and waiting are not your strong areas."

Thor sighed, his mother knew him well. "I will be anything he needs me to be," he swore. 

Frigga drew him into a hug. "I hope so my boy, I truly hope so."


	15. Fourteen Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not Made of Glass

Lunch with Frigga was a little strained. Loki was still feeling restless and angry. He couldn't seem to stop, which only served to make him feel angrier. His thought kept drifting back to the moment by the lake when he'd lost control. Thor had been there then, and he still loved Loki afterwards. If Loki could find a way to lift the curse - madness - *curse*, then Thor would be there waiting for him.

But for how long? How long could Loki live like this before he pushed Thor away completely?

Frigga was watching him closely.

"Are you alright Loki dear?" she asked.

Loki scowled.

"I really wish people would stop asking me that," he muttered.

"I ask because I worry Loki, but I am sorry, I will not ask you again," Frigga said.

Loki flushed lightly.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm not very good company today, I think I should go."

"Don't go on my account, I want you here even when you are out of sorts, but if you feel you need to, I won't stop you," Frigga said seriously.

Loki's face turned ugly.

"You are all stupid," he spat. "Tiptoeing around me like I'm broken, *I'm not broken*."

"I'm sorry Loki, I do not want to upset you-"

"That's the problem. You're all treating me like I'm a child, like I will break at any moment. *I am not a child*, I am not an *object* or a *doll* who can't handle his own life."

Loki was on his feet now, his hands were shaking with anger as they curled into fists.

Frigga's face became harder. "Very well," she said calmly, but with a hint of warning, "sit down and have lunch like an adult."

Loki took a deep breath to calm himself and sat down. He felt *better* somehow, being on the receiving end of some discipline. Was that even normal? It must be a result of the curse.

Of course! The King had *cursed* him with obedience! To make him docile and... compliant, willing. It was the only possible explanation for why he felt the way he did.

He needed to break the curse before it took complete control over him. But the answer would surely lie in Vanaheim. 

He needed to go to Vanaheim, sooner rather than later.

"Loki?"

Loki blinked and looked up. Frigga had asked him a question.

"I'm sorry Mother I did not hear," he said.

"Thor mentioned that he wanted to speak to you tonight, I was wondering whether you two would like to have a picnic dinner under the stars," Frigga said.

Loki felt a stab of fear in his stomach. Why did Thor want to talk to him? Was it the yelling today? Was there a problem?

"That sounds wonderful Mother," he squeaked, and it was a squeak, he was beginning to panic. He thought he'd have time! Time to break the curse! But today in the field he had ruined it! Thor didn’t want him!

"Loki. Breathe."

His mother's voice, beside him, when had she moved?

"Is he angry with me?" Loki asked in a small voice.

Frigga's brow furrowed in concern. "Of course not, he wants to have dinner. He would have asked you himself except that you smacked him like a puppy today."

Loki bit his lip. "I didn't mean to upset him," he said in a small voice.

Frigga's frown deepened. "You never used to worry about that," she said gently. "You used to follow Thor everywhere, but he was the one who came running when you called. Loki, he loves you and he wants to have dinner. There is nothing to worry about."

Loki looked away. He couldn't tell her about the curse, not until he found a cure, no, counter-spell. He needed a counter-spell. Cures were for illnesses, and Loki *wasn't* sick.

****

Loki spent the afternoon in a state of terror. Despite Frigga's assurances he couldn't shake the feeling that Thor was going to leave him. 

He shouldn't have been so angry. No one liked being yelled at. No Trouble, No Mis-

*WHAT?!* No, he couldn't... Thor wouldn't want... would he? Didn't everyone want, well, a *good* wife?

Loki hadn't been very good lately.

A knock on the door broke into his whirling thoughts.

Loki yanked the door open to find Fandral standing beyond.

"Fandral, what brings you here?" Loki asked, still fighting off the remnants of his panic.

"I came to see if you were alright," Fandral said. "We didn't see you at the tavern."

Loki's eyes narrowed.

"I. Am. Fine." he hissed.

Fandral actually took a step back. 

"Um, alright then, I was just checking," he stammered, as Loki swung the door shut and slammed it in his face.

Loki turned stormed into his bedroom. He was angry again, and wanted to hurt something. How dare they keep at him like this? How dare they keep checking on him like he was made of glass. Musleen had never treated him like that, Camtan had never treated him like that. 

He fit in better in Vanaheim. The thought made him uncomfortable, but there was no denying it, Loki had done well among the Vanir. They respected magic, they let him spar despite being a ‘queen’, the people had been kinder.

Loki frowned as he sank onto his couch. He missed the parts that didn’t have the king in them.

Maybe he should visit his grandparents. They had extended an invitation after all, and there were some good books on seidr at their castle. He could start his research there before moving on to the Tower.

They might be surprised to see him so soon, although, from the way they spoke when he had said goodbye Loki wondered if perhaps they had seen this coming. 

But surely if they knew that he’d been cursed they would have told him? They would have said *something*.

Maybe they only suspected it.

Or maybe he was sick and just wouldn’t admit it.

No. He was cursed. It didn’t make sense that he’d get sick *after* the King had died. It was all over now, he’d survived, so it had to be a curse.


	16. Fifteen Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Good Night Ruined

Thor was waiting for him under the stars. Loki peeked through the open doorway into the garden beyond and tried to summon the courage to go through with this.

It was just dinner, if Frigga was to be believed. Thor wasn't angry at him, he just wanted dinner.

Thor looked about as nervous as Loki felt.

Fighting reluctance, Loki stepped out into the garden and approached the man he loved.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you today," he said, by way of an opening.

Thor looked surprised. 

"No, Loki, I messed up completely. I saw you go to jump the fence and I panicked. Please forgive me."

It was said in a rush. Thor's eyes looked earnest and wary at the same time, as though he was afraid of what Loki might do.

And what might he do? He clearly couldn't control himself, he was losing his temper every other minute. He wasn't the Loki that Thor had fallen in love with.

The thought terrified him. 

"Shall we eat?" Loki asked to break the silence.

Thor nodded and sat down on the rug. Loki knelt on the other side and tried to look happy.

He had been nothing but miserable company since he returned. It wasn't what he wanted or enjoyed, and if *he* didn't like it then surely no one else did either. So instead he was determined to be calmer, happier, in control.

He managed a small smile as Thor handed him a plate full of food.

"It looks good," Loki said.

Thor grinned at him then, and a little piece of Loki unwound inside.

"I missed the stars of home," Thor said. "I would look up at the ones on my travels, but they had not the same beauty."

Loki obediently looked up. "There's Midgard," he said, pointing at the distant dot. "You said you went there."

"Eventually. We met the descendent of the Last Seer in Utgard, although they were less than eager to talk to us. They agreed however to help as long as we provided them with food for the winter. So we travelled to Midgard to hunt the stag and boar there. We hunted for several weeks, during which time we encountered the mortals, and they gave us gifts."

"So that was two hundred and fifty years ago now?"

"Roughly, yes. I would not be surprised if they had advanced a little since then. But it is no matter. We killed sufficient meat that the descendent agreed to help us by giving us the location of the Last Seer's house."

Here Thor paused, and Loki frowned in confusion.

"Where was it?" he asked, but even as he did he realised that he already knew. 'I'm going to seek the Emerald' was a Vanir saying.

"It was on Vanaheim," Thor said quietly. "In the west."

Loki nodded. "So you visited secretly," he said.

He wasn't actually upset. Of course Thor could not come to see him, that was stupid and potentially oath-breaking. On Vanaheim, not on Vanaheim, it made no difference. 

Thor still looked nervous though, as though he expected fireworks.

"Actually Fandral and Hogun went in my stead. I did not want to risk Father saying that I had made trouble for you," he said.

Loki felt a small smile come to his face. Perhaps he had been *slightly* upset.

"I owe Fandral an apology," he said quietly, "and a thank you."

Thor shifted and took a drink. "They were gone for over a month," he said. "I stayed on Midgard with Sif and Volstagg. I did not like waiting but there was no other choice."

"I understand," Loki said.

He actually felt pretty relaxed at the moment. Thor's tale was distracting, and the night was cool and calm. He lay back against the blanket and looked up at the stars. "What did they find?"

"The house was lived in by another, who had never heard of her. But Fandral said they were welcoming enough in exchange for a story or two. They had a chance to investigate the house. In the garden there was a map carved into a stone by the well. It indicated the location of another map. We did not know if it was a map to the Emerald, but we had no other path to take. We headed for Svartálfaheim to the mountain which the map said contained the next step forward."

Loki rolled onto his side to look at Thor. Thor's eyes were sparkling with his retelling, he looked as Loki had remembered him, happy and boisterous, unafraid that his lover would be upset. It was nice.

Which made Loki's need to go to Vanaheim all the more painful. But it had to be done. He had to find and break the curse before it swallowed him up and destroyed him. Thor wouldn't like it but he would have to understand.

Not tonight. Loki had been going to tell him, but it could wait. Tonight was a good one and he didn't want to spoil it. He'd tell Thor in the morning.

They stayed out under the stars until the air grew too cold, then headed in. Thor walked Loki back to his chamber door and then stopped.

"Um, may I kiss you goodnight?" he asked in his deep rumble.

Loki hesitated. The Ink wasn't on him right now, although it had been threatening all day. He'd already taken two baths to keep it at bay. Last time when Thor had kissed him it had been alright, and he really, really wanted to kiss Thor.

"Yes," he said softly, tilting his face up.

Thor leaned down and gently pressed his lips to Loki's. For a moment they stood there, gently feeling their way through unfamiliar territory, then Loki pulled back. He didn't want to, but the Ink was rising, he could feel it.

"Goodnight Thor," he said, trying to sound calm despite the fear that was beginning to grip him. 

"Goodnight Loki," Thor said, oblivious. "Sleep well."

Impossible, but the thought was nice.

"You too," Loki said. "I love you."

Thor's eyes lit up. "I love you too Loki," he said, and Loki's heart melted a little at the words.

****

He had another bath before bed. His skin was pink beneath his clothes and stung when he rubbed at it, but he felt better afterwards.

Touch one nightshirt, touch the next, wear the third, bed.

He'd had his sheets changed as well, just in case, and they felt cool and crisp against his skin.

Settled, and feeling pleased at how the evening had gone, Loki drifted off to sleep.

_He was standing on a mountain top. He could see all the way to the barrier that encircled the Kingdom of Vanaheim. It glittered gold in the sunlight._

_Loki looked down, and realised that the mountain was not a mountain at all. It was the King's burial mound._

_He started to step away, wanting to get down to the ground, but his ankles were starting to sink into the soil. Loki struggled against the earth as it tried to swallow him. He whimpered in fear as it sucked him down to his waist._

_"Thor," he screamed, "Thor!"_

_But there was no one else there. Loki cried out as he was dragged under the soil and down into the ship beneath mound._

_It was dark and gloomy, the soil had formed a roof above him, turning the vessel into a cabin of sorts. Loki looked around fearfully. Everything was as it had been when the King at been buried._

_Loki swallowed nervously and crept closer to where the King had lain. He was still there, his body was starting to whither. The wrinkled skin had begun to decay and his sunken cheeks had fallen further._

_Loki was trembling. He wanted to get out, but how could he with so much soil on top of him? He glanced nervously at the ceiling again. The soil looked as though it was packed solid._

_He glanced back down at the King’s body. It hadn't moved. Loki turned and tried to get to the far end of the ship. He had to find a way out. Even if it took him years of digging, he knew he couldn’t stay buried here._

_Something brushed against his back and he screamed, whirling around to see nothing at all. The gloom was ever persistent, the air was still._

_Loki whimpered and pressed his back against the wall of earth._

_"Thor," he whispered, too afraid to call out._

_"Precious Thor," whispered another voice._

_Loki sank down with a whimper. He was trapped in here, he'd never get out, the soil was so heavy and there was so much of it._

_"Precious Thor," the voice whispered again._

_Loki turned and began desperately scraping at the walls, trying to dig through the earth._

_He looked over his shoulder and saw the King on the ground, crawling towards him._

_"Stop," Loki whispered as he dug harder._

_The King's corpse continued to crawl slowly towards him. It was in no hurry, he was trapped, It had plenty of time._

_Loki kept digging frantically as it drew near. It was within reaching distance when he finally jumped up and tried to get around it._

_"Leave me alone! You're dead!" he shouted as he tried to run._

_The King ignored him and grabbed his ankle. Loki cried out and tried to scramble away but the King pulled him effortlessly into an embrace, wrapping its arms around him from behind._

_Loki stopped struggling. He felt desperate inside but his body remained passive. He was the King's, he wasn't allowed to struggle._

_The King leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Loki's cheek._

_Loki looked out at the gloom of the ship. He was going to stay here, forever by the King's side._

_He crawled alongside the King back to the cushioned bed where It had lain. They lay down together side by side in the darkness._

_"Mine," whispered the voice._

_Loki swallowed in resignation. "Yours," he whispered._

_The ceiling fell and buried them both._

****

Loki woke up and stared at the ceiling above him. For a moment he couldn't move, couldn't even breath, then he flew out of bed and ran at a sprint to the bathroom. The Ink was everywhere, EVERYWHERE. It was all over his body, a thick patch of it was on his cheek where the King had kissed him. His hands trembled as he filled the bath and tore at his clothes, desperate to get them off.

He scrubbed all over for an hour. His movements were frenzied and desperate and he could not stop the tears that shook him. 

He'd kissed Thor last night. He'd given in and kissed him while still cursed. How could he be so selfish? How could he have risked it? What if it had risen up like this while he'd been with Thor?

It could never be allowed to get to Thor.

He scrubbed until droplets of blood began to form on his skin. There was a lot of hair in the water as well. Black hair, drifting, like tendrils of Ink.

Loki shuddered and climbed out, careful to avoid anywhere he had stepped before. The whole bathroom would have to be cleaned. Scoured utterly. Everywhere he looked he could see the residue of filth.

He touched five shirts that morning, just to be safe, and wore the sixth. He did the same with his pants and his socks, as he pulled them from his drawer. His boots gave him some trouble, he didn't *have* six pairs, but he grabbed a clean towel and wiped his feet all over, careful not to touch the same part of the towel twice. Only then did he feel clean enough to dress.

It wasn't until he went to the curtains and pulled them back that he realised that it was still night time. He had only slept for an hour or so.

He stood there by the window and struggled not to start crying. He couldn't go back to bed. It was tainted with Ink, all of it. The bathroom was filthy too, and he couldn't shake the feeling that if he tried to sleep with the Ink so close, it would rise up and try to get to him. He had to have it cleaned *now*.

That meant waking the servants. That meant standing around waiting as they scrubbed and scrubbed. 

Or he could just go. Go now to Vanaheim. He had to go anyway, and if he tried to explain then Thor and Mother would probably try to stop him. If he went though, just went and left them a note, then they couldn't argue with him, and once the curse was broken then he could come back and everything would be alright.

He walked carefully to the bedroom door. He was trying to be silent in case the Ink figured out what he was doing.

With great care he twisted the knob and slipped into the next room. He locked his bedroom door with magic and then pushed a chair up against the handle, just to make sure, then he went quickly to his writing desk and wrote out his explanation for Thor.

Last night, well, this night really, Thor had been wonderful, kind and loving, he would have to understand.

With the note finished, Loki walked quickly to the door and left his chambers. He made his way down to the stables and saddled up his horse with the third saddle he touched. Then he rode quickly to the Bifrost.

"Heimdall," he called out as he swung down from the saddle. "I need to go to Vanaheim."

Heimdall appeared, looking stern as always. 'Did that man ever sleep?' Loki wondered.

Heimdall looked at Loki with a kind expression. "Are you certain that Vanaheim is where you wish to go?" he asked.

Loki nodded, Vanaheim was the logical place. "Just outside of Lord Fallconyr's castle if you can," he said, stepping forwards.

His hands were trembling again. He could *feel* the Ink coming for him. It had realised where he'd run to and was making its way through the castle to follow him.

"Please hurry," he said urgently.

Heimdall looked at him with concern, but activated the Bifrost. 

"Good luck Prince Loki, I hope you find what you need," he said.

The Bifrost activated and pulled Loki away before he could reply.

****

It was raining on Vanaheim. The darkness was punctured by flashes of lightning that lit up the fields for a split second as thunder rolled in the skies above.

Loki was drenched in seconds. He could see the light of the castle some distance away. He realised that he was in one of the middle fields. It would take him an hour or so to walk there.

There was a field shelter nearby. Loki made his way there instead and pulled open the door. Made of wood, the field shelter was a single room, long enough for a man to lie down in, but do little else. Loki grabbed the blanket left there for what little comfort it gave and sat down facing the door with his back against the wall. He would wait out the storm here before making his way to the castle.

He had been there for forty minutes, listening to the thunder crashing around him, when the door swung open and Haewkyr entered, shaking the rain off his cape.

He stood with his hands on his hips and regarded Loki seriously.

"Hiding out or passing through?" he asked.

Loki sighed. "I need help," he confessed.

Haewkyr just nodded. "I saw the Bifrost as it came down. I guessed it might have been you. Lightning's outside if you want to ride to the castle tonight."

Loki looked out at the pouring rain.

"I would have been alright until morning," he said.

Haewkyr's expression carried his disbelief.

"Are you certain about that?" he asked.

Loki looked up at him and a second later began to cry.

****

On Asgard, in Odin's study, all the paperwork he had stacked on his desk blurred as the ink spread out from the carefully written letters, destroying an entire day's work.


	17. Sixteen Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Sceptical Ally

Haewkyr sat down beside Loki and wrapped an arm around him.

"You're not doing so well are you?" he asked in a gentle voice.

Loki shook his head. "I'm cursed Haewkyr," he said. "I need to break it before I can marry Thor or it will destroy him."

Haewkyr gave Loki a squeeze. "You are certain of this?" he asked.

Loki nodded firmly. "It's the only explanation."

"And what does the curse do?" Haewkyr asked, his voice was very calm.

"There's this inky stuff, I felt it when I was married to, to, to the King, but it didn't go away when he did. It's after me. It comes in my dreams and sticks to my skin when I wake. It's trying to get Thor, I *know* it." Loki said.

Haewkyr gave him a somewhat strained smile and another squeeze. "Then we'll have to find a way to break it," he said. 

Loki sighed in relief. "They don't believe me, they think I'm... they think I'm sick, in my head. But I can't be!"

"Why not?" Haewkyr asked in a reasonable tone.

Loki stared at him in surprise.

"You think I'm sick?" he asked.

"I refuse to make a judgement until I have all the facts, now tell me why you can't be," Haewkyr said bluntly.

Loki bit his lip. He felt as though he was skating dangerously close to an edge of some kind.

"I'm not mad," he said. "If I was going to go mad I would have done it when still married. Why would I go mad *after* he's dead?"

He didn't have to say who 'he' was, they both preferred not to name the former King.

"Alright, that is reasonable," Haewkyr said. "Does anyone else think it more likely to be a curse?"

Loki scowled. "I didn't tell them, they all tiptoe around me, like I'm going to break at any moment. I'm not that fragile."

Haewkyr nodded slowly.

"You think I'm mad too, don't you?" Loki asked, betrayal lining his features.

Haewkyr gave him a stern look. "I think that is the more likely possibility, however I will not rule out a curse at this stage. You might as well try to find it, and I will help you."

Loki turned his head away and tried to pull from Haewkyr's grip.

Haewkyr was having none of it.

"Don't you dare get mad at me. After all this time do you really think I want to see you hurt? Do you think I delight in the thought of you struggling? I think you have been through a terrible ordeal, one that I wish I could have saved you from, and now you are free. But free does not mean that things are fine. I will help you look for a curse Loki, but if we find nothing then I want you to seek help from a healer. I personally think you should do that anyway, if you are cursed then she won't be *able* to help. Is that not vindication for *your* theory?"

Loki scowled. Haewkyr was making sense, which was upsetting. 

"I can't be mad," he confessed reluctantly. "If I'm mad then I can't marry Thor, he can't have a mad queen on the throne of Asgard."

"As opposed to the mad King it has now?" Haewkyr said bluntly.

Loki made a slight noise of amusement, but sobered again almost instantly.

"I can't be mad," he said again.

Haewkyr gave him a little squeeze. "You're not," he assured him. "You'll be alright, we'll help you."

****

They rode back to the castle once the rain had eased. Loki felt good riding astride Lightning again, the horse felt safe to him, as though something as pathetic as Ink could never hope to touch something as powerful as Lightning.

Loki helped Haewkyr settle the horses in the stable and followed him inside.

"You can stay in my room tonight," Haewkyr said. "We'll set you up in one of the guest rooms tomorrow."

"Thanks," Loki said as they climbed the stairs.

Haewkyr's room was sparsely furnished, the result of a lifetime of living out of doors. His bed was large enough though, and covered with furs from his hunting kills.

"You can wear one of my night shirts," Haewkyr said pulling one out and tossing it to Loki. He stripped off and pulled another one over his head before heading for the bed.

"Nice and warm," He said, climbing in and gesturing for Loki to do the same.

"You're not afraid of the curse?" Loki asked him.

"You said it wanted Thor, not me," Haewkyr pointed out, "so I'll risk it."

Loki shed his clothes and pulled the night shirt over his head. Haewkyr's eyes narrowed as they spotted the raw skin on his thighs and stomach.

He didn't say anything though, just lay back and tried to get comfortable as, beside him, Loki attempted to do the same.

"Grandfather will want to talk to you in the morning," Haewkyr said into the darkness. 

"I know," Loki said.

He was nervous about that, he didn't want to be told that he was mad, which seemed to be everyone's opinion of him.

He would find the curse and break it, then they'd see how wrong they were.

'You are going to find nothing. You've gone mad and you just won't admit it,' said a voice in the back of his head. 'Thor will never love you like this.'

Loki squeezed his eyes tightly shut in order to block out the thought. 

'No. I am cursed. I will break it. I will be free.' he thought defiantly. 'And Thor and I will get married and be happy together *forever.*'

It took a long time, but Loki was finally able to drift off to sleep, lulled by the rain and the warmth of Haewkyr's bed.

****

Thor read the note with pained eyes. Loki was gone, slipped away in the night, and Thor was supposed to just accept it?

"At least he's with my parents," Frigga said. "He's with family, they'll help him."

"*I* can help him," Thor said. "I love him, I *want* to help him. Last night was a good night, we were comfortable, he had relaxed!"

"How did he respond when you told him what you know?" Frigga asked.

Thor flushed the crimson colour of guilt.

"Thor! You promised me that you would tell him!" Frigga admonished.

"I know Mother and I meant to, but he was relaxed and calm, I didn't want to shatter it. I resolved to tell him this morning, I did not foresee that he would steal away from me in the night!" Thor replied hotly. 

He crumpled the letter in his fist. "I love him Mother, how can he run from me like this? I only want to help him."

"Perhaps the help he needs is not what you can provide," Frigga said gently. "He left you a note Thor, not me, not anyone else, the note is addressed to you. He wanted you to understand."

"I do not understand. I *want* to understand. I *want* to help him, but he won't let me in!" Thor shouted. 

He looked at the locked door of Loki's bedroom. The note had begged Thor not to open it, for fear of letting out an evil curse.

"Do you think he is cursed?" Thor asked. "That his pain might be lifted with a strong spell?"

Frigga's expression made her answer plain.

"But it would be better!" Thor exclaimed as tears spilled over onto his cheeks. "Then he could be better and this would all be behind us."

"It is highly unlikely that Loki is cursed. It is far more likely that he suffers from mental strain, and he needs to be helped. My parents will do their best," Frigga said.

"I will go and see him," Thor said suddenly.

"I'm not sure if that's advisable at the moment Thor," Frigga said.

"He needs to know that I'm not giving up on him. If he thinks that there is a curse upon him I will help him to break it. If there is not, then I will be there when he realises this for himself. I will tell him everything and trust in his love for me, as I wish he would trust in my love for him," Thor declared.

Frigga looked worried. "I just don't know if that's the right decision," she counselled.

Thor looked stubborn. "I will go to him."

"There is one more problem my son," Frigga said gently. "You are the crown prince of Asgard, you cannot visit Vanaheim without permission from its King."

Thor paused. "But Loki may go where he wishes?" he asked.

Frigga sighed gently. "He *should* get permission, but as the second son and former queen there is some leeway, he definitely should have *told* them he was coming, although I have no doubt my father will do so at the earliest opportunity."

Thor frowned, his anger growing. "I must go to him, surely they will understand-"

"That the crown prince of a more powerful realm is using their land as his own holiday grounds?" Frigga interjected. "That is what they will say. Do you remember the trouble that the rebels posed?"

"I remember Father's solution," Thor said darkly.

"Such chatter will rise again if you are reckless. You must ask for permission to visit your grandparents," Frigga said.

"But I must go to Loki now!" Thor raged.

"Write him a letter, a note of your own, Heimdall will deliver it. Promise him that you are coming," Frigga advised. 

The weather outside had turned dark and ugly, Thor's face was no different.

"I will write to them," he muttered menacingly. “And they will let me come.”


	18. Seventeen Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Important Ally and a Major Setback

Haewkyr rose early in the morning. Loki was still asleep in his bed. Haewkyr looked at the messy mop of black hair peeking out from under the covers and sighed with worry. Loki was in a bad way, and so quickly too. But then he'd been warned by their grandparents that something like this would probably happen. He had not realised just how accurate they would prove to be.

"He won't last a week," Lord Fallconyr had said.

"He's got his mother, and he's strong, maybe he'll be fine," Haewkyr had argued.

Lord Eadgleyr had shaken his head gently and pulled his grandson into a hug. "It doesn't matter how strong a person is, some things cannot be shaken off easily, you know that Haewkyr," he had said.

Haewkyr did know it. He had always considered himself a strong man, steady, not prone to cowardice. 

And yet he still sometimes woke in the night, shaking and covered in sweat, with visions of dying horses in his mind.

He knew the power of pain and terror. Loki *could* be alright in time, but *would* he be?

That depended on whether he was willing to accept that he was ill, and accept the help that was offered.

His mood dark, Haewkyr went to tell his grandparents that they were right after all.

****

Loki didn't wake until the sun was high in the sky. For a moment he looked around him in confusion, before all that happened last night came drifting back.

He was on Vanaheim, in his grandparent's castle, in Haewkyr's bed, and safe.

A feeling of relief flooded through him.

He rose slowly, rubbing a hand over his eyes and allowing himself the luxury of grogginess. 

The Ink wasn't there. He'd left it behind in Asgard. He had no doubt that it would catch up with him, and probably soon, but for now he had a little time.

He rose and headed for the bathroom.

The water felt good. His skin, not so much. It stung under the soap and made him wince as he cleaned himself. No matter, he would break the curse and then all this scrubbing would be worth it.

The castle was quiet as he made his way through the corridors. Everyone was out in the fields by now, where they would spend the majority of the day. 

Well, not everyone. Loki opened the door to the Properties Room and peaked inside at his Grandfather, hard at work.

Lord Fallconyr turned and smiled at him. "I'll be with you in a minute, this reaction needs to be carefully handled," he said.

Loki settled by the window and watched as the old man carefully added a few drops of this and that, creating a greenish liquid that he poured into a spraying container.

"There, that will go on yesterday's crop and become the preventative tea," he said, turning to face where Loki sat. "Welcome home."

Loki looked at the floor. "I'm in a lot of trouble," he said. 

There was no point skirting the issue. He was here for a reason, and he had to get started.

"Haewkyr told me that you had arrived in the night, in the middle of a thunderstorm, in tears," he said. "Trouble seems like a good way to put it."

"I'm cursed," Loki said flatly. "He cursed me and I need to find a way to break it, so that I can be alright and marry Thor."

Lord Fallconyr sat down next to Loki with a sigh. "You know what I am going to say to that Loki," he said.

Loki scowled. "You're all going to be begging my forgiveness when I break this thing," he said.

The corner of Lord Fallconyr's mouth turned upwards. "I promise you Loki, if you are right I will grovel on my knees. How are you planning to break this curse?"

"I need to look into them, there are a number of types of curse that it may be. I will eliminate them one by one until I find it," Loki said.

"Sounds reasonable," Lord Fallconyr said. "How do you feel right now?"

"Better, I think it's still in Asgard."

"The curse?"

"The Ink that the curse created. It sticks to me all the time, I have to keep bathing to get rid of it, but then I dream of the King and it comes back."

Lord Fallconyr frowned in thought. "But you said you left it behind?"

"In Asgard yes, it tries to get me after I clean it off. It's alive, it wants to keep me with the King."

"You seem very certain."

"What else could it be for? He must have cast it on me when he was still alive, and now that it is no longer under his direction it is manifesting in new ways."

Lord Fallconyr nodded in understanding.

"I want to believe you Loki, because such a solution would be wonderful for you. To that end I will help you research the possible curses and their cures. But I want you to do something for me."

"What is that?" Loki asked, already knowing what his grandfather was going to say.

"Help me in the Properties room at least twice a week. I am an old man and I need young hands now and again. You are good at helping and you pick things up quickly."

Loki blinked in surprise. He had not expected that.

"Of course I will help you," he said, relieved that he was being taken seriously. "I'd love to."

"Good. Today can be the first day of this week. I am making the sleep tea next. That is more difficult because it is all dried ingredients, they need to be mixed carefully to ensure that they are evenly spread. This afternoon we will attack the library in search of your curse."

Loki smiled then. He already felt more positive about things. He would break the curse and be with Thor. It was amazing how much better he felt knowing someone was on his side.

****

King Dorgen sat in his office and reviewed his most recent correspondence. There was a lot to do to ensure the smooth running of an entire realm, although the council did ease the workload considerably.

There was a letter from Asgard, not unusual in of itself, although this one appeared to be from the Crown Prince rather than the King.

Dorgen sliced open the envelope and opened the letter. One eyebrow slowly rose as he read what it contained.

With a sigh he put the letter down and sent a messenger to Musleen. Things were about to get political.

He had really wanted the first year of his reign to go smoothly, but it looked as though Asgard was going to interfere whether he wanted them to or not.

Musleen arrived, he was wearing his training clothes and was sweating slightly.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

Dorgen handed him the letter. Musleen read it with a calm expression. 

"Did you know about this?" Dorgen asked him when he'd finished.

"About Loki loving Thor? Yes. Loki being here? No, but judging by this letter it was a recent action."

"Do you realise that with the Bifrost Asgard can land men wherever they want, even if we do not wish them to? This is a major breach of security," Doregen said.

"I agree," Musleen said, sitting down. "They have promised not to in our treaty-"

"Which they have just utterly disregarded," Dorgen finished.

"True, you can write a complaint to Odin, but that would indicate that you know of Loki's troubles. He may not appreciate it."

"He bloody caused it!"

"Diplomacy brother, I can fetch you the definition if you like."

"If I tell you to bugger off, will you still help me with this?"

"Of course. I advise that you ignore Loki's less than diplomatic arrival, respond to Thor that he is welcome to visit his grandparents after your coronation, perhaps as an extension of his visit, he is coming for that isn't he? And send me out to speak to Loki about why breaking treaties is not advisable. Also to check on him, I'm worried about him."

"You were worried before he went home," Dorgen said.

"I know, I'm even more worried now, he's been gone what, four days? Five? And then he is back without notice. He's in trouble, and he's a friend. I want to see if I can help."

Dorgen sighed. "I don't like this, any of this. Odin will be testing my resolve soon enough, trying to see how much influence he can exert over me and this realm. If I let Loki's arrival go unnoticed then he may see that as a sign of weakness."

Musleen's face was serious. "He may, but is it? What Odin thinks and what is true may be two different things. You allow Loki and *only* Loki to come here, you hold firm on other matters. It may even be to your advantage in the long run to give Odin a sense of superiority now."

Dorgen nodded slowly. "I was hoping that you'd say that," he said. "I do not want to abandon Loki during what must be a difficult time, but neither can I afford to give any ground to Asgard. You can go and speak to him while I handle the coronation preparations."

Musleen nodded and rose.

"Oh and Musleen?"

"Yes?"

"Send me the reports from our spies in Asgard, I want to know how Odin managed his son's arrival and sudden departure, and anything they have on Thor. His letter is quite halting for a Crown Prince, although the depth of feeling behind it is very strong. I want to know who I'm dealing with."

"I'll see that you get them before I leave," Musleen promised.

****

Musleen immediately headed to the Vanir Intelligence and Security Headquarters, codenamed VISH, but nicknamed MeLeH by the people of Vanaheim (for Musleen's Little Hobby), and relayed his brother's instructions to the commanders on duty. Then he headed to his chambers to pack for a short trip away.

He packed lightly, not expecting to stay for more than a night or two once he arrived, and wrote a short note to Daenceia explaining his absence for the next eight days or so.

They had had dinner once since Loki's departure. It had been a little bit awkward, after working together and then being apart for so long. However despite this they had both agreed to do it again. Camtan had declared that that was practically the definition of true love.

It was a three day ride to Lord Fallconyr's estates, *if* you rode through the night. Musleen sent a messenger down to the marketplace to inquire as to whether there were any empty carts headed back that way and if he could ride along, it would be faster than trying to make the ride alone on horseback.

There were three carts heading that way, and of course the Second Prince of Vanaheim was welcome. They would be leaving in an hour.

Musleen grabbed his bags and headed down to the market. His face was showing its usual serious expression, but he was worried about this latest development. It was hardly unforseen though, Lord Fallconyr himself had forewarned Musleen that this exact scenario might play out, it seemed everyone knew Loki was in trouble but Loki.

Far beyond the potential politics of the situation, Musleen considered Loki a friend, and he wanted to find out just what was going on and how he could help.


	19. Eighteen Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Revelation

Loki spent the afternoon with his grandfather, researching various ways in which to break a curse. 

"A general cleansing draught is the best place to start," Lord Fallconyr said. "If it's one of the common ones then that'll take care of it immediately."

Loki nodded, and gathered the list of ingredients.

"Do you have all of these?" he asked.

Lord Fallconyr took a look at the list. "I believe so, I will have to get the redda herbs from the market, they are not as common as the others. Come to the Properties Room and we will get the others ready."

"This will work," Loki said confidently as they walked back and started washing their hands before handling the herbs.

He'd been feeling better and better all day. After so long living with the Ink he was finally *doing* something about it. It felt good.

'You're going to be very disappointed,' said the nagging though at the back of his mind.

Loki dismissed it as a product of his fears. He *knew* he was cursed, and he *knew* he'd find a cure. He wasn't mad.

"Loki?"

"Yes?"

"Your hands are clean, you can stop washing them."

Loki looked down at his hands under the water. "In a minute," he said. "I'm almost done."

"Now Loki, before you scrub away the skin. You can't handle herbs with broken skin, its unhygienic and you know it."

Loki looked back at his hands again. They didn't feel clean yet. 

"I-"

"Loki. Now."

"But the Ink."

"Has it come back?"

"Not yet, but I have to keep it at bay," Loki protested.

Lord Fallconyr reached into the sink and rested his hands over Loki's. He didn't try to pull them out yet, just stop his grandson from scrubbing so desperately.

"If it is a curse, then you cannot give into it. You must ignore its pull and carry on. To acknowledge it is to risk its influence growing. Stop now, your hands are clean and we have work to do."

Loki reluctantly pulled his hands from the sink and dried them on a towel. He tried not to touch the same part of the towel twice, but under the watchful gaze of his grandfather he couldn't be too meticulous.

"Alright," Lord Fallconyr said gently when Loki was finished, "let's prepare the first of the ingredients."

It was very difficult for Loki to walk away from the sink before he was ready, but he didn't want to disappoint his grandfather. His hands shook as he took the first of the herbs and placed them on the cutting tray.

"Try to ignore it and concentrate on your work," Lord Fallconyr advised.

Loki picked up the knife and began to chop the herbs into smaller pieces in preparation for grinding them. The Ink was hovering, lurking just outside of his skin. He really wanted to go back and wash it away again.

"I'll chop the farrow," Lord Fallconyr said. His calm tone belayed the fact that he was watching Loki very carefully.

"Alright," Loki said. He felt distant again, as though he was floating through his life and waiting for true feeling to return. The Ink was all around him, almost, but not quite touching his skin.

He transferred the chopped herbs to the grinding bowl and went to pick up the grinding stone. It slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor.

Lord Fallconyr looked up from his chopping, but Loki had already knelt down and scooped it back up, only to have it fall from his hands again. Loki grabbed it more firmly the second time and lifted it back onto the table. 

'Be calm,' he thought to himself. 

He picked up the cleansing cloth to wipe away any dirt that may have touched the grinding stone when it fell to the floor.

He wiped it over several times, that should do it, although one more time wouldn't hurt, just one after that, and another, he couldn't stop wiping, the stone just didn't feel clean.

"Loki. Stop."

Lord Fallconyr's voice was firm and commanding, Loki found himself obeying instinctively.

He put the cloth back down and started grinding the herbs without a word. He didn't want to talk about it.

"This will be ready be tomorrow morning," Lord Fallconyr commented, "if we can get down to the market today."

"When do they shut their shops?" Loki asked.

"At sunset," Lord Fallconyr said. "We have plenty of time."

Loki concentrated on grinding the herbs. His hands felt contaminated, but he didn't want to give into it. His grandfather was right, to give into the curse would be to give it power. He had to fight it.

He finished grinding and tipped the herbs into the brewing pot.

"I'll get started on the fidroots," he said, trying to keep his voice calm.

Lord Fallconyr nodded, still working away at his bench.

They spent the better part of an hour chopping, grinding and slowly brewing, until they reached the end of the first step.

"Now, off to the market while this simmers, come on, and we'll get you some clothes while we're there," Lord Fallconyr said.

Loki felt a stab of embarrassment. He'd run to Vanaheim without even packing, and now he was costing his grandparents money to keep him.

"I can pay for all this, I just need to write to Mother and she'll send my allowance, and my clothes too."

"Do not worry yourself Loki, do you think I am destitute in my big castle and enormous lands? We will find you some things to wear while you stay. If you want little Frigga to send you some clothes then by all means write to her, but do not worry about leaving me in poverty," Lord Fallconyr said.

Loki smiled, a little, but genuine smile. "I will write to her tonight," he said.

They walked slowly down to the stables where the stable hands hooked up a carriage for them. Lord Fallconyr grunted with effort as he climbed in. 

"I'm going to have to order a lower carriage soon," he said. "Pity, I like this one, but Eadi and I are getting older and climbing up and down like this is getting difficult."

Loki didn't say anything. With his cane and frail appearance, Loki was of the opinion that Lord Fallconyr should have started using a lower carriage years ago. But he was a stubborn old man, married to an equally stubborn old man, and neither one of them was prepared to admit defeat before the last possible second.

The ride took half an hour, during which time Lord Fallconyr chatted quietly about the new variety of tea he was trialling, after Haewkyr brought home a sprig from the frozen forest.

"Iced tea," he said cheerfully, "for those hot summer days. The frozen forest is supposed to have come from Jotenheim, and it is truly a marvellous plant. It's tiny leaves hold onto the chill for months after being cut, and the brew we made from them sooths the throat as well as a healer's draught."

"I can't wait to try it," Loki said.

The carriage rattled into the marketplace and slowed to a halt. Loki climbed out and offered his arm to his grandfather, who ignored it, before taking in the scene.

It was quite a large market, with shops open on every ground floor and a fair number of temporary stalls dotted around the place. People smiled and waved to Lord Fallconyr, who walked among them with a fatherly smile on his face.

This was his kingdom, Loki realised. He may not rule a realm but he ruled these people and was beloved by them. 

He trailed after his grandfather as the old man made his way slowly to the herbist's shop.

"You look well Daryen, how are your children?" he asked of one man.

"They fair well, Your Lordsir, very well, the youngest is getting married in a month."

"Oh congratulations to her, I must send her a basket, Loki, remember to remind me."

"Yes Grandfather," Loki said. "Basket?"

"An old tradition that I am much fond of. The Lord of the estate sends a basket of common goods to a new couple to help set them up in life. In the very olden days it was things like a set of good knives for the kitchen, a warm blanket for the bed and maybe a bottle of wine to celebrate with, and some marriage ropes of course. They are a much loved item but a luxury for the peasant class in the olden days. They would never buy their own. These days it is usually some coins for spending how they wish, but I always include the marriage ropes, it is tradition."

"It's a lovely tradition," Loki said as they entered the shop.

It was like herbist shops everywhere, cool inside and filled with smells both good and bad, with things hanging from the ceiling and pots, large and small, covering every available flat surface.

"Mearryia, how are you?" Lord Fallconyr asked as a middle-aged woman with greying hair and sparkling blue eyes came out from the store room at the back.

"I am well, Your Lordsir, very well, and yourself? How is your family, are they well?"

"Quite well," Lord Fallconyr said.

Loki bit his lip slightly. *He* wasn't quite well, but then he hardly expected his grandfather to tell people his troubles, quite the opposite.

"I'm looking for some redda, just a small amount to put in a brewing," Lord Fallconyr continued.

"Let me get it down from the shelf," Mearryia said, turning away and heading behind the counter. 

She took down a small pot and opened it up. A spicy smell filled the air.

"Muspelheim's finest," she said cheerfully, picking up a little scoop. "Is that enough Your Lordsir?"

"A little more, yes that's enough, thank you," Lord Fallconyr said. "Loki? Do we need anything else do you think?"

Loki was taking the opportunity to have a good look around the shop. He loved herbists, even as a child they had held a special place in his imagination. He had been convinced that Frigga's favourite herbist had a secret passage to a magical land in the stockroom and despite himself, had been disappointed as a teenager when he'd slipped in there and seen only boxes and jars.

"I don't think so," he said, looking back at Mearryia.

Her dark eyes were locked onto him intently, making him feel uncomfortable. Could she see the Ink?

Well why don’t you take a better look around for a minute, I need to indulge my ever aging body and avail myself of the facilities," Lord Fallconyr said.

Mearryia waved him through to the back, where presumably he knew the way to the toilet. Then she returned and watched Loki carefully.

Loki tried to take an interest in the herbs, but he could feel her eyes on his back.

"Why are you staring at me?" he asked at last.

Mearryia gave him a look of deep sympathy.

"Your life-line has changed," she said. "Someone has changed your fate."

Loki blinked in surprise. "What?"

Mearryia came out from behind the counter and walked up to him, her eyes had gone from a sparkling blue to a deep black.

"I can see things that other do not. Little things, like an injury before it appears, or a love that has yet to blossom. His Lordsir has changed too, but not as much as you have. Your life *shines* before me, you are living a different life to the one that you were fated. This is most extraordinary, I have never seen one who defied the fates."

Loki shook his head. "I didn't, at least, I didn't choose to, I've never even tried to fight my fate."

"Most do not, those that do try do not succeed. But you have years ahead of you that are *new*. Your life is much longer and it is not stolen from another, oh! and I can see clearly that they are a gift of love."

Love. The one person of whom Loki always thought when the word 'love' was mentioned jumped into his mind. What had Thor said to him in their shared dreams? He was working on a way? He would find the Emerald? 

What had Thor done?

"How many years more?" Loki asked carefully.

Her face became kind, and more than a little sympathetic. "More than four thousand."

The words were like being shot through with an arrow. *More than four thousand?!*

That meant that in his old timeline, Loki would have been due to die anytime from now to maybe six hundred years hence, if he was lucky.

His dream of being buried in the King's tomb flashed across his mind. Had he been fated to die with him? Were they supposed to be buried side by side?! 

His vision darkened, he could hear gasping, as though something sinister was coming for him. There was shouting too, words, Mearryia in front of him growing dim...

Loki woke up on the floor. Lord Fallconyr was just re-entering the shop, and he looked in concern at his grandson.

"Loki! What happened?!" he cried, coming over.

"He had a panic attack," Mearryia said bluntly. "I apologise my Lordsir, but I am afraid I was the cause of it. I said something that he found upsetting."

Loki pushing himself up. "I'm fine," he said quickly. "I had a bad thought, but I'm fine."

It was the curse, obviously. Thor, darling Thor, had changed Loki's fate, but in doing so he had angered the Norns and now they were trying to stop this new timeline. It was the obvious answer.

Loki actually felt a little happy at being vindicated. It meant that he was up against something far bigger and more powerful than he had first thought, but he was *right*.

"I'm fine now," Loki said. "Thank you for your concern."

Lord Fallconyr insisted that he have a drink of water before leaving, but then allowed him to get up and go to the clothing shops.

They bought a set of robes and a stray pair of trousers that was hanging on the rack.

"It'll need to be taken in," Lord Fallconyr said.

"I can have it done by tomorrow Your Lordsir," said the tailor with a smile.

Lord Fallconyr promised to send a servant to pick up their purchases the next day, and the two of them headed out into the sunshine.

"The storm has washed the ground clean," Lord Fallconyr said with a sigh of contentment. "I worry about the damage that they may do, but I do love the day after a good strong storm."

"I love storms too," Loki said with a wistful smile. 

"Are you sure you love storms? Or maybe just the architect of them?" Lord Fallconyr asked as they reached the carriage.

Loki's smile widened.

"I do love him," he said. "I've been unable to say so for so long, he's been like a secret in my heart, but I *love* him. I want so badly to find a way to break this curse so that we can be together."

"Hypothetically," Lord Fallconyr said, "what would you do if you were unable to break the curse?"

Loki sobered immediately. "I would die," he said simply, "because I cannot live without him."

Lord Fallconyr looked at him seriously as the carriage began to move. "You would most certainly not die, Loki, that is ridiculous," he said bluntly. "You are my grandson, Eadi's grandson, you are the son of Frigga, the brother of Thor, a warrior and a scholar, and a damn strong man in your own right. I will not hear you talk that way. If you cannot break the curse: You. Will. Fight. You will fight it every day of your life because that way you will *have* a life."

Loki looked back into his grandfather’s earnest eyes. He was right. The time for running was over. Loki was going to fight this thing, not just by finding a way to lift the curse, but every day that he tried. He would *not* give in, he would *not* give up. He would take this life that was given to him and he would *make* it his.


	20. Nineteen Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Politics of a New King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the delay. Sh*t hit the fan at work (not our fault but we had to deal with the fallout) and I got a bad cold all in one horrible space of time. I'll get back into things now.

There was a thunderstorm over the Vanir capital immediately after King Dorgen sent his reply. After an hour he sent another one, chiding Thor for attempting to bully him into changing his mind. The thunderstorm dropped less than ten minutes after his second letter was sent.

It wasn't easy being a King when your neighbour was Asgard, Dorgen pondered as he sat in his office. His father had hated it, although on the surface he had managed to make it look easier than it was.

There was a minutia of things that always needed to be done, even with the council helping.

Things would be no calmer after the coronation, as Dorgen fully expected everyone to try and test him. 

He was dreading having to meet with Odin. The man was the most powerful in the nine realms, he could crush Vanaheim like a bug if he so chose. It was nerve-wracking to think that Dorgen would have to butt heads with him.

And yet, what choice did he have? He had to take a firm stance at the start or else Odin would run rings around him forever.

What Dorgen really, really wanted to do was punch the man. It was hardly the most diplomatic course of action but after what Odin had done to Loki, Dorgen could think of nothing else he'd rather do.

He twirled his pen between his fingers and idly wondered when young Thor would be able to take over. He was a hothead, but hotheads could be steered, if the sudden drop in the storm was any indication. 

But such musings were pure fantasy, Odin would never relinquish power, and the man was just horrible enough to live a full, long life.

There was a commotion outside, and Dorgen went to the window to look.

The statues at the front gate were being taken down. Officially, the last King had 'gifted' them to the Vanir people, and as such they were to be melted down and the metal sold to pay for government improvements throughout the city. Only a few select people knew that the King had willed no such thing.

The gold would be used to pay for improvements, the iron beneath would be turned into weapons for the army.

Dorgen had served five tours of duty with the army in his younger days. He had kept himself apprised of new technologies and developments as the centuries had passed. Now he was determined to bring the Vanir army's strength up to something great. For too long they had sat quietly and peacefully under the protection of Asgard, and what had that achieved? They were confined to a set border within their own realm, they relied on the Aesir army to lead the way into battle, to save them if they were ever under attack. No, that would not do. Vanaheim would have its own army, large enough to protect itself against incoming threats, and well-trained enough to stand alone as a recognised force, separate from Asgard's shadow.

They were a far way off achieving true independence as yet, but Dorgen was determined to make a start. He had already recalled Vanaheim's most decorated general, so that he might give his opinion on the matter. The man was due to arrive back from Asgard in a few hours.

No doubt Odin would be wondering what Dorgen was planning, but he'd just have to wait and see like everybody else.

 

****

Loki carefully dropped the last of the ingredients into the pot and stirred the mixture gently. It began to stream purple.

"It's ready," he breathed. 

"Let it cool," Lord Fallconyr warned without looking up from his workbench.

Loki spooned a measure out of the pot and placed it carefully on the bench to cool down.

He tried to wait, but the suspense was already pulling at him. Nervously he began to pace about the room, turning to stare at the cooling mixture with every turn.

"Come and help me open this," Lord Fallconyr called out, interrupting his thoughts. "It's stuck and I need strong hands."

Loki obediently went to his grandfather’s side and took the jar from his hands.

"It is stuck," he said after trying to prise it open without success. "Hold on."

Loki tapped it against the bench a few times to loosen the lid before using the edge of his clothing to help pop it open.

"There," he said, handing it back.

"Thank you Loki, never get old, it's not worth it," Lord Fallconyr said, taking the jar back and scooping out a little of the granules within.

"I won't," Loki said cheerfully.

He was in good spirits, because in a few more minutes he was going to be free of the curse.

"Staring at it will not make it cool faster, help me grind this up, but the time you are done it will be cool enough to drink," Lord Fallconyr said.

Loki dutifully complied, well, tried to comply. He kept looking over at the cooling cup, which caused his movements to be slow and haphazard. 

Lord Fallconyr was watching him carefully as he worked. He was worried that the failure of the potion to ‘cure’ Loki would cause a painful realisation. Of course, Loki *had* to realise eventually that there was no curse, and the sooner the better. Still, Lord Fallconyr would not wish such a painful road on anyone.

‘Except maybe one man,’ he thought as Loki again slowed his movements to almost nothing as he looked over at the potion.

Lord Fallconyr walked over and touched the cup. “It’s ready now,” he said, a little reluctantly.

Loki dropped the mortar like it was made of fire and ran to his grandfather’s side.

“Loki, I want you to be prepared for a different outcome than the one you expect,” Lord Fallconyr tried to warn as Loki practically snatched the cup from his hands in his haste.

Loki drank the mixture without a pause, which, given that vanquishing curses was a painful experience to go through, showed the depth of his desperation.

Nothing happened. 

Nothing.

Not a thing.

Loki stood there and looked up at Lord Fallconyr with wide, lost eyes.

“It didn’t work,” he said softly.

Lord Fallconyr reached out his arms. “Come here my child,” he said, pulling Loki into a hug. 

Loki held onto his grandfather for a minute, but there was no crying, no breakdown, none of the things that Lord Fallconyr was expecting.

When Loki pulled back he was smiling.

“I should have known that a standard banishing spell wouldn’t work on the Norns,” he said. “I’ll research a stronger one tomorrow.”

Lord Fallconyr watched with worried eyes as Loki carefully bottled the remainder of the potion to go into storage and then began cleaning the cauldron.

It seemed that it was going to take more than a simple banishing spell to convince Loki that he needed healer.

‘At least,’ Lord Fallconyr thought as he went back to his own work, ‘at least Loki is in a safe place while he struggles.’

There was not much more to hope for than that.


	21. Twenty Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversations at Dinner

That evening Haewkyr came in from the fields and immediately went looking for Loki. He had tried to keep himself distracted all day but it was hard not to worry after what he’d seen last night.

Loki seemed to be in good spirits, which was… worrying. Not that Haewkyr *wanted* Loki to shatter like glass, but he didn’t see how there was any other way through this. Loki was utterly delusional about his situation, and he needed to face up to it sooner rather than later.

Loki was sitting with some of their cousins, he was smiling in a slightly-too-bright way that didn’t fool Haewkyr for a second.

He made some room for himself by casually sliding Liafeyr along the bench and gave Loki a grin as he settled himself.

Loki returned it, looking for all the world as though nothing was wrong.

“How are you doing?” Haewkyr asked as casually as possible.

“Well, very well, I helped Grandfather in his workroom, and we went to the market for some herbs,” Loki said as the food was placed in the centre of the table.

“What herbs?” Haewkyr asked, risking a quick glance at the head table where Lord Fallconyr and Lord Eadgleyr sat eating.

“Just some redda. We needed it for a cleansing draught,” Loki said.

“Cleansing?”

“For my curse.”

“Did it work?” Haewkyr asked, still keeping his voice light.

“No, but it’s alright. I met the herbist, she told me something important,” Loki said, dropping his voice slightly. “I’ll tell you after dinner, I don’t think everyone should know.”

Haewkyr raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Alright, we’ll go to my chambers after and talk,” he said.

Loki smiled and turned to his food. His smile was still tight and his eyes were strained. Whatever he’d been told it wasn’t enough to sooth his mind completely. Haewkyr had to fight the urge to shake him. Loki was so far in denial about what was happening. He needed help, but he just wasn’t willing to admit it.

Frustrating was no longer the word to describe it, but both Lord Fallconyr and Lord Eadgleyr had cautioned Haewkyr not to push Loki for fear of making things worse.

Haewkyr gave Loki a tight smile of his own and grabbed a huge portion of dinner from the serving platter.

“Where do you put it?” muttered his younger sister, Joeyia.

“In my hollow legs,” Haewkyr answered without a pause. 

It was an old joke of long standing. Sometimes he said his hollow arms, particularly the enormous muscles, sometimes he said his hollow head, as he had no brain to get in the way. Joeyia shot him a smile and then turned to Loki. She was naturally a shy girl, and had avoided him for the most part, but now she bit her lip and took the plunge.

“How was your day L-Loki?” she asked.

Loki smiled at her. “Great! I spent it with Grandfather.”

“Will you be doing that again tomorrow?” she asked.

“Yes,” Loki answered.

She nodded and looked down. Haewkyr wrapped an arm around Loki shoulders and leaned inwards.

“She works with Grandfather most days, I think he asked her to stay away so that the two of you could have some time,” he said. “She’s been at a bit of a loose end.”

A slight look of guilt crossed Loki’s face. “I didn’t mean-“ he started. 

“I know, we all know. But maybe you could come riding with me tomorrow?” Haewkyr said.

Loki’s reaction was not one he’d been expecting. He looked annoyed.

“I can’t, I need to check the library,” he said. “I’ll tell you why after dinner.”

Haewkyr let his arm fall and went back to his dinner. Something had happened today and he wanted to know what.

****

Up on the head table, Lord Fallconyr glanced over once again at where Loki sat.

“Leave him be,” Lord Eadgleyr said calmly. “I’ll see if I can talk to him tomorrow.”

“I was hoping that he’d come to his senses,” Lord Fallconyr said.

“In one day? You overestimate your abilities darling. He’s in a bad way. I think you did a good job considering. At least he’s trying not to give in to despair anymore. He’ll study new methods, it’s true, but he knows deep down that he’s chasing shadows, he’s not a stupid boy at all, he’ll realise that he needs help and he’s in the right place to find it.”

“I know,” Lord Fallconyr sighed. “I swear to you Eadi if that bastard wasn’t dead I’d dig him up and beat the crap out of him.”

“I’d help you,” Lord Eadgleyr said grimly. “Tomorrow I will try to spend some time with him and see if I can help, and I need to write to Frigga with an update. She’ll be climbing the walls with worry.”

“It’s Thor I’m worried about, I’d like a chance to speak to him and see how he is handling all of this.”

“You’ll see him at the coronation,” Lord Eadgleyr pointed out.

“In three months,” Lord Fallconyr shot back. “It may not be soon enough.”


	22. Twenty One Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Blunt Man's Big Mistake

That night after dinner, Loki followed Haewkyr back to his chambers to talk. Haewkyr poured them both some wine and sat himself down heavily in one of the cushioned chairs.

“So? What do you have to tell me?” he asked.

Loki sipped his wine before shooting Haewkyr a smile. “The herbist said that my timeline had been changed. I was supposed to die young but now I’m not. Thor saved me, I know he did.”

“You’re sure about this?” Haewkyr asked, leaning forward with an intrigued look on his face.

“Yes. Completely. She was very certain. But changing your timeline is supposed to be impossible. The Norns are furious with me, I’m sure, *that’s* why the curse exists, it’s them. They’re trying to punish me. But if I can find a way to break it then I get to live a long life with Thor,” Loki said happily.

“Can you feel it now?” Haewkyr asked him. “Can you feel the Ink?”

Loki sobered. “Yes. It’s always with me, it never truly goes away. It feels as though it’s hovering just out of reach and it’s waiting for the right moment to pounce.”

“You are absolutely certain of this?”

“*Yes* Haewkyr, it’s the only explanation that makes sense.”

“No it’s not.”

Loki pressed his lips together to keep from shouting. After a moment to calm himself he took a deep breath and continued.

“There is nothing wrong with me,” he said slowly.

Haewkyr put his wine glass down, aware that he was doing the exact opposite of what his grandparents had asked him to do. But he couldn’t help himself. Loki was so clever at everything else, but *so* blind when it came to his own situation.

“Actually I think there might be,” he said. “It’s not normal to be perfectly fine after what you went through, it’s not normal to just go along merrily without acknowledging what has happened to you. It *is* normal to cry, and scream, and break down and hurt. You refuse to do any of that. You refuse to admit that you need help.”

He’d gotten himself worked up, and if the look on Loki’s face was any indication then Haewkyr had well and truly put his foot in it.

Loki didn’t say anything. He’d paled to a deathly colour and his hand was trembling where it held the wine glass.

-and in Asgard, Odin’s bathwater clouded black, tainted, it was discovered later, with ordinary writing ink-

“Loki I’m sorry,” Haewkyr said quickly. “I’m worried about you, I want you to be alright, I-“

“You truly believe that I’m mad,” Loki whispered.

Haewkyr shook his head violently. “No! Never. I think you need time to heal Loki, you’re not mad, but you’ve been wounded, and like any other wound you need a healer who can help you. Please Loki, please listen to me.”

Loki put the wine glass down and walked out of Haewkyr’s chambers without a word.

“Loki!” Haewkyr called after him.

He put his own glass down and ran out into the corridor, but Loki had vanished.

“Shit,” Haewkyr mumbled with feeling and began to search the castle.

He checked the living rooms, the dining hall, the library, the stables, all of the towers and cellars, he checked all of the hidden places that, realistically, Loki should know nothing about. 

He couldn’t find him anywhere.

Hours of searching later, Haewkyr finally, although very reluctantly, sought out his grandparents chambers. He was in a lot of trouble and he knew it.

He knocked and entered when bid, holding his large body in a cringe-like pose.

“What have you done?” Lord Eadgleyr asked the second he saw him.

“I told Loki to seek a healer for his mind,” Haewkyr said, looking at the floor.

Lord Fallconyr put his head in his hands as Lord Eadgleyr sighed gently.

“I take it he was not receptive to the idea?” Lord Eadgleyr asked.

“He walked out on me without saying anything,” Haewkyr admitted.

“One day he’ll apologise to you for that,” Lord Fallconyr said. “But today is not that day. I’ll find him.”

“No. Haewkyr will find him.” Lord Eadgleyr said.

“I’ve been looking! I’ve been looking for-“ Haewkyr glanced at the clock and flushed a guilty shade of red – “four hours.”

“You got yourself into this mess you can get yourself out of it. Loki needs friends my boy, so you will seek him out and make this right,” Lord Eadgleyr said firmly. “I doubt he’s left the castle, he still hasn’t finished checking the library. He’ll turn up and you will make things right with him. I know you want him to face his fears, believe me, we *all* do, but he’s in deep denial and he needs to find his own way out of it, when that happens I damn well want you there! Now keep looking, if he turns up here we’ll send him to you, and I think you two should go riding tomorrow as well, get the boy some fresh air and wide spaces.”

“Loki said he was going to spend tomorrow in the library,” Haewkyr said.

“Wide spaces, I’ll have a word with him about it at breakfast,” Lord Eadgleyr said. “Now go and make peace. I hope you can find him before dawn, he strikes me as the kind who, if he wants to disappear, will find a way.”

Haewkyr walked out of his grandparents’ rooms like a man going to his death. Where on Vanaheim would he find Loki? There were hundreds of places to go in the castle, and that was *not* including the actual secret places.

****  
It was midnight when Haewkyr entered his chambers again. He’d planned only to grab a drink of water before continuing his search, and his rooms were closer than the kitchen.

Loki was asleep on his bed.

Haewkyr twisted his mouth up in a mixture of amusement and frustration. All his searching and Loki had come back on his own.

He drank a glass of water before gently reaching over and placing a hand on Loki’s shoulder to wake him.

Loki blinked sleepily up at him.

“What are you doing here?” Haewkyr asked gently.

Loki gave a sleepy shrug. “I don’t know where my room is, I forgot to ask for one.”

Haewkyr chuckled deep in his chest. “Whoops,” he said.

Loki just shrugged again.

Haewkyr took a deep breath and sat down on the side of the bed.

“I’m sorry Loki, for not supporting you. I know I said I would and I failed you.”

Loki curled up a little tighter under the furs. His face looked almost petulant, but Haewkyr could see something serious behind his eyes.

“I’m going to speak to a healer,” Loki muttered, almost too softly for Haewkyr to hear.

“You are? What changed your mind?” Haewkyr asked carefully.

Loki pouted properly then, a real spoilt-looking expression that still managed to look endearing rather than annoying.

“Because I want to prove you wrong,” he said into the pillow.

Haewkyr nodded seriously. It wasn’t the answer he was hoping for, but it was a step in the right direction. “I hope you do. Thank you Loki.”

“Will you help me fight the curse?” Loki asked, again to the pillow.

“I will do anything you ask of me,” Haewkyr promised.

Loki shifted to glance up at him with hope in his large green eyes as he gave Haewkyr a smile. It struck Haewkyr then how much Loki reminded him of a child. But then, he *had* been a child when he’d been plucked away from his life and placed into a brutal situation. He had been forced to fake a maturity that should have come with time, instead it had stuttered to a halt. Loki was wise beyond his years in a number of ways, but he still had so much growing up to do in others.

He could also be a manipulative little shit when he wanted to be. Haewkyr had just promised to do anything, which included helping to search in the library if Loki asked it.

“Thank you,” Loki said, snuggling under the covers a little more.

Haewkyr felt a prickle of guilt at the warm feeling that flooded through his chest, but then, when didn’t he? 

He reached out and rumpled Loki’s hair, the way he’d do with one of his nephews, before rising to grab a nightshirt.

“We’ll get you a room tomorrow, I can’t have you in here every night, a man likes to spread out you know,” he said as he climbed into the other side of the bed.

Loki just made a sleepy noise and stole some more of the furs.


	23. Twenty Two Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pain and Panic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I owe you guys an apology.
> 
> I've been terrible at updating this, I was so good in the beginning but things are just rough right now and I can't seem to find the time to sit down and write. It doesn't look to be getting any better any time soon either. 
> 
> I have been sick more or less non stop for about six weeks, with only short breaks in between each bloody cold. Normally I don't get any at all but this year I've copped every winter cold going around. I can't take time off work which is slowing down my recovery somewhat, and work itself is also just really busy right now.
> 
> On top of all of that, my grandmother, who has cancer, is starting to go downhill. She's been amazing for a year now ever since the diagnosis. I have to admit, it's hard to face, and that is making my panic attacks flare up like a b*tch.
> 
> I'm telling you all this because I wanted you to know why I was so bad at updating right now. I love you guys, I love that you read this stuff and I love your comments. I am really sorry for making you wait so long and I promise that I *will* finish this story, it's just going to take longer than I first thought.
> 
> In the meantime, here's some more Thor in pain, concerned Haewkyr, and some naked Loki.
> 
> Sadly it is not an attractive scene, but he is naked nonetheless.
> 
> Slight non-con dream scene, you've been warned.

Thor had taken himself off away from the palace. His request to visit Loki in Vanaheim had been denied and he was furious. Then a rebuke had come through chastising him for causing storms and he’d been forced to shamefully admit to his father that he’d been unable to control his temper.

Odin had threatened to take his power away from him, and Thor had managed to bring the storm to an end.

But he refused to stay in the palace for the next week. He couldn’t even look at his father. Only a promise to his mother ensured that he’d be back at all. 

He had left his horse in the valley below and was climbing one of the nearby hills to scope out where he was going to head next as his thoughts swirled in his head.

Loki had run away. Loki had *run away*. Loki didn’t run from anything. Thor was known for his bravery but only because he was loud in battle. But who was it who was always right by his side? 

Loki, always Loki. Quiet and careful but always there and ready to face whatever came their way.

But Loki had run away. Loki was so badly brutalised by his marriage to the King of Vanaheim that he had run from Thor, who loved him. 

Thor reached the top of the hill and collapsed in tears. His Loki was lost and Thor had no way to help him find his way back. He didn’t even know how to reach out to him, let alone support him. 

The coronation was in three months, King Dorgen had told Thor that he may visit then, but he hadn’t included *how long* Thor could visit. It was his only hope at this point, the chance that he could remain afterwards and stay with Loki.

Frigga had sent some of Loki’s clothes to him via the Bifrost. She said he’d get it in a few days. Thor had included a long letter pouring out his heart and soul. He hoped it was the right thing to do.

****

Loki was by the edge of the lake back in Asgard letting the water lap at his toes. It was undamaged by his recent explosive outburst, and he felt relaxed and happy.

In the distance, Loki could see a familiar shape. Thor was coming, striding confidently over the grass dressed to go swimming.

Loki smiled at him. He was utterly perfect.

The water lapped at the back of his knees. Loki frowned as he turned to look back at the lake. The water couldn't rise in the lake, it didn't have tides.

The water was black, the whole lake had turned to ink.

Loki screamed and tried to scramble out of the water, but it grabbed hold of his legs and began to pull him in.

"Thor!" he screamed, reaching an arm out desperately for the still-distant figure.

Thor saw his distress and broke into a run, but he was too far away.

The ink yanked Loki hard and pulled him under, covering his head completely as it pulled him down.

Loki thrashed and struggled against it but it was useless. He was pulled down deeper and deeper until his ears began to pop and his lungs ached for air.

The ink cleared away, revealing a familiar ship lying at the bottom of the lake.

Loki's eyes widened in terror. It couldn't be. The King's funerary ship was on Vanaheim! It couldn't have come to Asgard.

It had come for him.

The ink pushed him down until he hit the deck next to the dead king. Loki froze in fear beside him, waiting for the dead king to rise and claim him.

He realised suddenly that he no longer needed air, and his ears were no longer hurting.

That's because dead people didn't feel pressure, or need air, and Loki was supposed to be dead.

He tried to creep silently away from where the king lay. He had just reached the edge of the ship when the King's eyes snapped open. They had sunken away, leaving empty sockets withered around the edges.

Loki tried to throw himself off the ship but the ink shot down from above him and pushed him back.

Loki landed in the King's arms, which locked around him like a vice.

The King licked Loki's ear with a dry and withered tongue. "Be a good boy," he hissed.

Loki shuddered and tried not to sob in terror as he was pulled back to the centre of the ship.

"My wife," the King hissed.

Loki squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to cry.

"My wife," the King hissed again, pulling Loki into an ever tighter embrace.

"My *wife*"

His tone was growing forceful.

Loki stopped struggling. Defeated, he opened his eyes and looked up at the King.

"My Husband," he choked out.

The King leaned down and kissed him.

****

Loki's eyes snapped open and he let out a scream of terror. His whole body was covered in the Ink. He could still feel the King's rotting lips on his mouth.

He jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom, tearing at his nightshirt as he simultaneously tried to turn on the tap.

"Loki"

Loki managed to get the water running as he pulled the nightshirt over his head. Several of the buttons were pulled off but he didn't notice as he ripped the material from his body and threw it away like the filth it was.

"Loki!"

He grabbed the brush for cleaning out underneath nails and began to scrub it across his skin.

"Loki!!"

Haewkyr was in front of him. Where had he come from? It didn't matter, nothing mattered except cleaning the Ink from his skin. Loki pulled back away from him and scrubbed harder.

"Loki stop! You're bleeding! Loki! Stop it!" Haewkyr yelled.

Loki ignored him. The hot water had come through and was starting to steam where it fell from the tap. Loki ignored that too.

Haewkyr saw the steam and abandoned his attempts to get through to Loki, the water was hot enough to scald.

He reached in and wrapped his arms around Loki's body before heaving him directly out of the bath and the path of the water.

Loki screamed in frustration and tried to keep scrubbing even as he struggled to get back to the bath.

"Stop! Stop! It's everywhere! I need to get rid of it!" he shrieked in terror.

"You're hurting yourself! Loki STOP! I'll let you go if you STOP! Please Loki, please stop," Haewkyr begged, fighting Loki all the way.

Loki didn't seem to hear him. He was still fighting viciously to get back to the water. The brush was clenched in his hand as he tried to reach his skin.

Haewkyr pulled Loki back from the bathroom with difficulty and wrestled him onto the bed.

"Stop fighting or I won't let you up," Haewkyr panted.

But Loki was not listening. Hysteria had claimed him utterly and he was deaf to reason.

Haewkyr pinned him with difficulty and tried to think of what to do as Loki struggled beneath him. He briefly considered letting go and running to the bathroom tap to cool the water before Loki got there, but he wasn't sure he'd make it on time, fear was giving Loki great strength, and it was all Haewkyr could do to keep him pinned.

In the end he sat and waited. Waited for Loki to scream himself into silence, waited until the adrenalin ran out and Loki slumped, exhausted and shaking, beneath him.

"Loki?" Haewkyr said tentatively.

Loki choked on a sob.

"I'll let you up if you listen to me," Haewkyr continued.

Focus seemed to come back into Loki's eyes and he nodded very slowly.

Haewkyr carefully let Loki rise.

"I have to bathe," Loki said in a hoarse voice. 

He was trembling and kept twitching in the direction of the bathroom, as though he longed to challenge Haewkyr all over again.

"I'm happy to let you, but you can't bathe under scalding water Loki you'll do terrible damage to yourself," Haewkyr said carefully. "Let me run you a bath, then you can get cleaned up."

Loki looked at him with wide eyes for a few long seconds, before nodding again.

"Hurry," he whispered.

Haewkyr moved quickly to the bathroom and adjusted the tap to a more normal temperature. He stuck the plug in and ran back.

"Just let it fill," he said.

Loki was scrubbing the nail brush methodically over his thighs again and again. They were bleeding, and getting worse.

"Loki," Haewkyr said softly. "Give me the brush."

Loki ignored him.

Haewkyr came closer, sitting gently on the side of the bed. "I want you to give me the brush Loki, please."

Loki whimpered and started scrubbing harder.

Haewkyr snatched the brush from Loki's hands and pulled it away.

Loki gave a shriek of protest and tried to grab it back.

"Loki! Calm down or I'll call the healer right now and they'll lock you away!" Haewkyr snapped.

Loki froze. 

"I'm not mad, it's a curse, it's a curse, it's a curse," he babbled.

Haewkyr swallowed nervously. It had never looked less like a curse. Loki looked insane.

"Come and clean the blood off you," he said softly. "And we'll talk about what happened."

Loki nodded and climbed awkwardly off the bed. Haewkyr followed him into the bathroom and watched as Loki climbed in. Loki then turned and held his hand out for the brush.

"Use a cloth, it's what they're there for," Haewkyr said, putting the brush on the far side of the room.

Loki scowled and grabbed a cloth. The water had half-filled the bath.

Haewkyr came closer as Loki began to scrub all over again.

"Tell me what happened," he said gently.

Loki shook his head. "I have to get it off first," he said.

Haewkyr pinched his lips together but sat down and waited as Loki kept scrubbing. Eventually he decided that he was clean, and put the cloth down.

"I need a clean towel," he said.

Haewkyr fetched on and held it out.

Loki touched it, then pulled his hand back. "Another one."

Haewkyr fetched another, only to watch Loki do the same thing. 

"Another one."

Haewkyr brought the third, planning to insist on Loki using it, but he didn't have to. Loki took the towel and began drying himself with it.

"Why *that* towel?" Haewkyr asked.

"The first two are dirty," Loki said, in the face of both logic and evidence.

"I see," Haewkyr said.

He felt as though he was in far over his head, but at five in the morning, there was no one else.

"Tell me what happened," he said instead.

Loki pulled a face.

"The Ink tried to get me again. I think it knows that I tried to banish it, it was punishing me."

"How?"

"I dreamed that the King came and took me back, to his grave to be with him forever. If my life has changed as the herbist said then perhaps I am supposed to be dead. That would explain why he keeps trying to pull me back to him."

Loki sounded so bloody reasonable when he spoke, as though the frantic behaviour from before hadn't really happened.

Haewkyr took a deep breath. "Alright," he said carefully, "so you have been dreaming of that bastard trying to kill you, and you wake up, uh, dirty-"

"-Inky," Loki corrected.

"Inky," Haewkyr repeated. "Which means you need to clean it off."

"Yes, but it's alright, I've done it now," Loki said, smiling a little. "I'll look for another cure today."

"After you see the healer," Haewkyr said.

He threw his hands up quickly as Loki started to scowl.

"You broke the skin on your legs and stomach, you should have that healed," he said.

Loki settled down. "Alright," he said, "and I *am* going to see her about my mind, but *after* I find another spell to try. It's important to break this curse Haewkyr! I have to."

"Fine," Haewkyr said, fighting his own frustration. Hearing Loki speak of the curse instead of working towards becoming well made him want to shake the man, but there was nothing he could do yet. Not until Loki realised on his own that he needed help. "I will go into the fields this morning. I would like you to join me after seeing the healer for your skin, after all, Grandfather told you to keep living as a way to fight this curse, in the afternoon we will search the library for possible spells and then you will talk to the healer for an hour."

Loki pouted. "I need to find the right spell as soon as possible," he argued.

"You need fresh air and to keep yourself balanced, curse or not, you need to keep living."

"Grandfather said that," Loki admitted reluctantly.

"He was right, I'll help you all afternoon if you come riding with me. We'll check the fences on the south side and then head back in," Haewkyr promised.

Loki turned away from him and headed back to the bedroom without answering.

Haewkyr bit the inside of his cheek and followed.

Loki avoided the bed entirely and looked at his clothes piled on the chair.

"My new clothes from the village will arrive today," he said.

"One more day won't hurt them," Haekwye said, "Although I'll lend you a new shirt if you like."

"Thank you," Loki said.

Haewkyr fetched a shirt and laid it out on top of Loki's clothes.

"I'm going to bathe," he said, keeping his eyes on Loki as he backed away. 

He resisted the urge to say 'don't go anywhere', strongly suspecting that to do so would earn him a dark look. Loki didn't like to be coddled; he tended to fight against it tooth and nail.

But there was no denying that Haewkyr bathed in record time, just so that Loki wouldn't be left alone for long.

Luckily Loki was sitting in the living room waiting for him when he came out. Haewkyr gave him a smile and sat himself down on the couch. 

"Time to go down for breakfast," he said, trying to sound as normal as possible.

Loki nodded. "I will come with you this morning, but we have to be back in time for lunch. I want to spend the whole afternoon researching," he said.

Haewkyr had to stop himself from sighing in relief.

"Great, let's go and eat up then, we'll need a good breakfast to fuel us," he said, rising to head to the dining hall.

"And I need to speak to the servants about getting a room of my own, and you need to have your sheets changed, they're covered in filth now," Loki said.

Haewkyr bit the inside of his cheek again, there was nothing wrong with his sheets.

"I'll mention it to them," he lied.


	24. Twenty Three Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lying to Yourself and Others

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are amazing, thankyou so much for your wonderful response, it means the world to me.

Loki was humiliated. He could feel Haewkyr's eyes on his back as they made their way down the narrow stone staircase to the dining hall.

He'd lost control, completely, and in *front* of someone. The curse had gotten the upper hand and made Loki look crazy.

He'd break it though. He was determined to prove that he could be strong.

So instead of rushing off to the library straight away, he'd agreed to go riding for the morning. It was almost killing him to act so calm, clearly the curse was growing in strength as the Norns tried to stop him from living, but he had to maintain control or he'd be locked away for his own safety.

If they locked him away then his life would be over, even if he did convince them that he was well he'd still never be allowed to marry Thor.

So he kept himself calm as he willed the morning to pass. He rode Lightning, who was happy to see him, and helped fix up one of the fences that had taken damage in the storm two nights earlier.

Lunch was agony. Loki was so desperate to get started but he had to act calm and wait for Haewkyr to finish his enormous meal. If Loki hadn't known how big Haewkyr's appetite could be he'd accuse him of deliberately slowing things down.

But at last he was finished, and they headed to the library.

"Okay, if you start with this one I'll go through these four," he said, handing a book to Haewkyr with a smile.

They were *finally* doing something productive.

"What am I looking for?" Haewkyr asked, giving the book a look of deep suspicion.

"That's a book on the history of the Norns, I want you to check for anything that looks like a weakness, or any times in the past when someone changed their fate, even if it's a rumour or a story," Loki said. "It may be something I can use."

"We can use," Haewkyr corrected, resigning himself to an afternoon of reading. "I'm in this with you until the end, I promised."

"You did," Loki said with a smile. "I'm grateful Haewkyr, I really am."

Haewkyr rolled his eyes good-naturedly and started to read.

Loki's smile faded and his face turned serious. He knew Haewkyr thought he was mad, which meant he couldn't be trusted, but at least the book would keep him busy while Loki worked.

No one believed him. No one. He was on his own against the whole of the nine realms, and that meant he could not trust them, not really. It was a sad state of affairs, but there was nothing Loki could do about it. 

If the library here proved useless, he'd have to go to the capitol and use the one at the Tower. He suspected that he would have to, but he wasn't looking forward to it. The Tower would be full of old friends, none of whom would believe him. It would be a tense time as he searched for an answer.

Loki bit his lip as he studied the page in front of him. He wished he didn't have to be so alone in this. He wished that he had *someone* who believed in him.

Thor would believe him, but Loki couldn't risk having him here.

Shaking himself out of his depressing thoughts, Loki turned his attention back to the book in front of him.

Haewkyr began fidgeting after about an hour. Loki was surprised that he'd managed to go that long. 

"There's nothing helpful in this," Haewkyr said suddenly, making Loki look up.

"You've finished it?" Loki asked, surprised.

Haewkyr gave him a smirk. "I did have lessons as a child you know, and I happen to have gotten very good progress reports. Just because I prefer the open air doesn't mean I can't read a book, now, do you have something a little more challenging or helpful?"

Loki felt his mouth crease into a smile, Haewkyr was a man of many facets, most of them hidden.

"Here, you can check this one for cleansing spells," he said, passing over one of the books on his pile.

Haewkyr stuck his tongue out as he took it, making Loki grin in spite of himself.

"I'll finish this before you get through that," Haewkyr challenged.

"As long as you're thorough, I accept your challenge," Loki shot back.

They both put their heads down and studied their books.

 

****

"So, Loki, what brings you here this evening?" Sharewdia asked.

She was a healer, and a damn good one. Unbeknownst to Loki, she'd been brought to the castle by Lord Fallconyr specifically to be available to help Loki with his mental state.

Loki fidgeted in his chair. He didn't want to be here, he *wanted* to be back in the library, looking for more ways in which to break his curse.

He and Haewkyr, with Lord Fallconyr's help and blessing, had begun brewing a new potion, but Loki didn't have high hopes. It didn't seem powerful enough to overwhelm the Norns.

"Loki?" Sharewdia said again.

Loki blinked and tried to pay attention, the last thing he needed was to start drifting off in company.

"I'm here because I told Haewkyr I'd come," he said bluntly. "He thinks I need help, but I don't."

"I see, and what does he think you need help with?" Sharewdia asked.

Loki gave her a look.

"Less than six months ago I was your queen," he said, "and you are a healer for my family who do not hide their secrets, so don't pretend that you are surprised to see me."

Sharewdia gave him a small smile.

"Very well, Your Grace, your marriage has ended, I am reasonably confident in assuming that it was unhappy, and your family believe that you are having trouble coping with your life now that you have your freedom. They believe your current behaviour to be a manifestation of this. Am I right?"

Loki nodded reluctantly.

"Alright, what do you believe?" Sharewdia asked.

Loki scowled, angry at having agreed to open up about himself, it was bad enough that he had been forced to endure such torment, but to be forced to go back over it? To relive it? That was where the madness lay.

Everyone around him was insane.

But he did promise.

"I am cursed," he said bluntly. "I know I'm cursed because Thor changed my fate with the Norns, naturally they are angry about this and are trying to punish me."

"And what form does this punishment take?"

"I am followed everywhere by sentient Ink, which covers me in my dreams and tries to kill me so that I will go back to the King," Loki said with a stubborn expression on his face. 

Saying it out loud made it sound ridiculous. Sentient Ink? What sort of a monster was that?

But it was *real*, it stalked him in his dreams and threatened him when he was awake. It worked for the Norns and they had every reason to hate him.

"Alright. Why don't you tell me when you first noticed the Ink?" Sharewdia asked calmly. Her expression held no judgement one way or the other.

Loki twisted his hands in his lap, realised that he was doing it and quickly put them by his side.

When had he first noticed the Ink? In Asgard? Once he was home?

'No', whispered the voice in the back of his head. 'You first felt it when the King was still alive, it stuck to you when he touched you, it stayed on your skin.'

"I'm not sure," Loki mumbled uncomfortably.

'Liar' whispered the voice, 'it doesn't belong to the Norns, they didn't go after you until after Thor's intervention, the Ink is far older than that.'

Loki bit his lip.

"Think back, Loki. It doesn't have to be the first time, just tell me about the earliest memory you have of the Ink," Sharewdia said calmly.

Loki looked away.

"Some years ago now," he mumbled.

This line of questioning was making him very nervous.

'Because you are mad, and now that she's got you here, she's going to see it,' the voice said.

Loki stood up quickly, sending his chair falling backwards.

"I have to leave," he said, and practically ran for the door.

Sharewdia called after him but did not give chase as he raced down the corridors and out into the gardens.

The clean air felt good in his lungs, and the scent of tea was in the wind.

Loki gulped a few deep breaths and tried to calm himself down. 

He was *mad*, not *mad* mad, he was a little... tired, and drained from research. And the Ink from the King was *different* to the Ink from the Norns, that had been more like a stain, in fact, now that he thought about it, that's exactly what it was, a stain that stuck to him, not an Ink that followed him. They even *felt* different in his memory. Of course it wasn't the same.

Loki breathed a deep sigh of relief and sat down on one of the stone seats. Alright, so he'd run out of the healer's chambers, but he's only promised to see her, he'd never promised to stay.

Haewkyr would be disappointed, but Loki would find a way to make it up to him, they'd go riding or something, something fun and energetic. 

Everything would be fine.

****

It was evening, a day later, when Musleen climbed down from the produce cart and stretched out his back. 

He looked up at the castle before him with a slight smile on his face. It was old, this castle, built before the Palace, built before the *last* Palace, that still stood on the icy high mountains to the south.

If a castle could look like a person, then this one looked like Lord Fallconyr. It was tall, imposing, cracking around the edges, and gave the distinct impression that it was silently judging you.

Musleen picked up his pack and made his way inside.

The servant at the door had hurriedly sent word to Lord Fallconyr of his arrival, and he found himself greeted in the entrance hall by the old man.

"Lord Fallconyr," Musleen greeted him seriously.

"Your Grace," Lord Fallconyr replied formally. "I believe I know why you have come."

"An unannounced Bifrost arrival in a non-designated zone is always a cause for concern," Musleen said calmly.

They were playing with one another. Loki was here and he posed no threat, all of their talk was just protocol.

"My grandson had an urgent errand here, he is currently dining with the family, if you join us you can ask him about his unconventional arrival," Lord Fallconyr said.

Musleen smiled his small, controlled smile.

"Perhaps it would be best to speak to him afterwards, I would not like to disrupt his dinner," Musleen said.

Lord Fallconyr smiled and gave a small bow. "As you wish Your Grace, please allow one of the servants to show you to a guest room. I will have some food sent up."

Which is how Musleen found himself sitting alone in a cosy corner of the castle, dining on roast boar and pheasant while Loki ate below, oblivious to the Prince's presence. After dinner they would meet and have what Musleen hoped would be a pleasant conversation, but feared would be a dreadful one.


	25. Twenty Four Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Private Conversation

"Loki? I need to speak with you," Lord Fallconyr called out as Loki finished his dinner.

Loki shot a curious look at Haewkyr, who shrugged, before going up to his grandfather.

"Yes Grandfather?" Loki asked.

"You have a visitor waiting for you in the west-blue tower room," Lord Fallconyr said.

Loki heart leapt in a mixture of fear and elation, was it Thor?

"It is Prince Musleen," Lord Fallconyr continued. "He wants a word with you about your less than conventional arrival to our realm."

Loki swallowed nervously, what if they sent him home?

"I'll see him directly," he said in a quiet voice.

Lord Eadgleyr reached forward and took Loki's hand in both of his.

"Don't worry child, he's your friend, remember? He's not here to punish you," he said comfortingly.

Loki nodded, but he couldn't quite calm his heart. Whatever the royal family of Vanaheim had been to him, it was that no longer. Loki was a foreign prince who had trespassed on their soil. 

He couldn't risk being sent back, too much was riding on his being allowed to stay. 

So it was with a nervous heart and trembling hands that Loki climbed the stairs to the west-blue tower room.

He knocked nervously on the door and flinched just slightly at the sound of Musleen's voice.

"Come in."

Loki pushed the door opened and entered, preparing himself to fight for his chance to stay.

Musleen looked up from the papers in his lap and regarded Loki as he stood in the doorway. 

"My brother sent me," Musleen said by way of introduction, "to assess whether your arrival was the advance party to an invasion. We have our doubts, but crossing into our realm without warning and not at a designated Bifrost site is, basically, a declaration of war."

"I'm not here to invade," Loki said.

Musleen raised an eyebrow. "We'll see," he deadpanned.

Loki's mouth twitched in spite of himself. He'd not truly thought through his actions before now, being informed that Prince Musleen was waiting for him upstairs had been something of a wakeup call.

"I'm sorry Musleen, please tell Dor- um, his Majesty, that I only wished to see my family. I was impulsive, and I apologise."

Musleen took a sip of his wine. "I've heard it said that it is easier to apologise than to refrain," he said.

Loki looked down. "Please don't send me back," he said, voicing the fear that had jumped into his mind the moment he'd found out Musleen was there.

"Of course I'm not going to send you back, Loki, come in and sit down. Protocol must be observed, but I find it hard to believe that you are here to cause trouble."

Loki came in and sat, settling himself in one of the big, comfortable chairs by the fire.

"I came to see my family," he said.

"In such a hurry? Less than a week after going home?"

Loki scowled. "You're going to think the same as everyone else," he said.

"Which is?"

"That I've gone mad," Loki said bluntly. "I'm here because I'm cursed and Vanaheim has the best collection of spells in the nine realms. Once I break the curse I'm going home, I promise."

Musleen frowned at him. "Cursed? By whom?" he said at last.

Loki bit his lip. "It was an accident," he said. "My lifeline was changed and the Norns want to punish me for it."

Musleen's eyebrows rose in surprise. "In all honesty Loki, I thought you'd say it was father," he said.

Loki took a deep, difficult breath. "I thought that at first," he admitted, "but after I found out about my lifeline it makes more sense that it is the Norns, they can't possibly be happy that my fate has changed."

Musleen nodded slowly. "I am about as versed in magic as the average rock, but that makes perfect sense to me," he said. "Why then does everyone else here think that you are mad?"

Loki couldn't help the blush that spread over his face. He'd been married to Musleen's father. Musleen was no innocent, and indeed had definitely heard what Loki had been forced to do more than once, but still, discussing what he had been through was worse than uncomfortable.

"They just do," he said lamely.

Musleen gave him a sceptical look. 

"I'll ask Lord Fallconyr," he said by way of a threat.

Loki squirmed, took a deep breath and went for broke.

"They think that all the things that the King did to me has driven me mad," he admitted. "That I am damaged."

Musleen's grip tightened on the arm of his chair, he looked pained.

"Loki-" he began.

"Don't you dare apologise," Loki said quickly. "I know what he was, *you* know what he was, and neither one of us could stop it, if we could we would have. Don't you dare feel guilty Musleen, don't you dare!"

Musleen held up his hands in surrender.

"As you wish," he said. "But I still want to help you. What have you tried so far?"

"Two cleansing potions, but they didn't work, and I spoke to a healer," Loki said.

Musleen raised an eyebrow. "And what did she say?" he asked.

Loki gave a kind of half shrug. "Not much," he said evasively.

Musleen fixed him with a stare. It was not the kind of stare that many could withstand.

Loki matched and held it, for a moment the battle of wills in the room seemed to turn the air almost solid.

But in the end, Loki was younger, less experienced, and he had not held a position of professional interrogator. Natural talent could only get you so far.

He broke eye contact and looked down, trying not to bite his lip.

"I left after only a few minutes, I didn't really talk to her," he admitted.

Musleen nodded slowly. "Are you planning to go back?" he asked.

Loki scowled. "I told Haewkyr that I would. I'll keep my word," he muttered resentfully.

"I think it would be good for you, it has certainly done wonders for Camtan," Musleen said.

Loki looked up in surprise. "He's seeing a healer?" he asked.

Musleen nodded. "He's been seeing one in secret for a few decades now, F-Father's influence was causing him strain. His inability to stop the things that he saw was too much to handle alone."

"Oh," Loki said.

Knowing that one of your friends was going through a similar problem was actually quite reassuring. 

Loki felt a slight amount of relief, followed quickly by a lot of guilt. What kind of a person was he that the thought of Camtan suffering made him feel *better*?

"I'm not planning to stay long," Musleen was saying. "Just a day or so for the look of the thing. I've got a lot of work preparing for the coronation."

Loki shook himself from his thoughts and paid attention. "Knowing you the security will be impossibly tight," he said.

Musleen gave his usual tight smile, but otherwise did not acknowledge the compliment.

"How's Daenceia?" Loki asked.

The tips of Musleen's ears went red.

"She's well," he said, sounding less like the head of security and more like the awkward young man he sometimes was.

"Have you kissed her yet?" Loki asked, mostly to see if Musleen's whole head would change colour. His ears were flaming already and his cheeks were starting to flush.

"On...on the cheek," Musleen muttered.

Loki grinned in spite of himself. The stresses of the past few days seemed to recede as he watched Musleen squirm.

"Only on the cheek?" he teased. "You do know where the female mouth is don't you?"

Musleen glared at him, but it was nowhere near the intensity of his usual interrogatory gaze. He was almost the colour of a tomato.

"Quiet you," he muttered and rose to poke at the fire. "Or I won't invite you to go on our exploring trip."

"What exploring trip?" Loki asked at once.

"You know that Lord Fetatheren lives in what was once the old capital castle?" Musleen said.

"Yes."

"And that over the high mountains there is a long abandoned fishing village sitting halfway up a mountain where the old sea level used to be?"

"You're going?"

"We are, we have it planned for a year after Camtan and Sofftia's baby is born. They are both planning to go, and I'm going with them. We discussed inviting you and Prince Thor as well - a joint Vanir-Aesir venture."

Loki settled back into his chair with a slight feeling of horror. If he hadn't broken the curse by then there was no way he could risk being that close to Thor.

"I think Thor will be busy with his duties, he's been away from Asgard as long as I have," he said, "But you can ask him of course."

Hopefully Thor would have the sense to say no.

"What about Haewkyr? Do you think he'd fancy an adventure?" Musleen asked, abandoning the fire as his colour had returned to normal.

"You can ask him before you leave," Loki said. "Will you ask Daenceia?" he asked as Musleen sank into his seat.

The tips of Musleen's ears turned red again.

"I'm hoping to," he admitted. "If things are going well in three months’ time. It's a lot to ask of someone to go camping and climbing for months with someone that they're... um."

"Courting? You can say the word you know," Loki said. "You are courting aren't you? You're both serious in your intentions?"

"Yes," Musleen said quickly as two bright red spots appeared on his cheeks. "But it's still a big step to take."

"If you're not sure if you're right for one another then by the end of the trip you will be," Loki said. "One way or the other."

"I know, she may not be able to come anyway, she has her work in the city." Musleen said.

He sounded the way Loki felt, *wanting* one answer but suspecting the other one would be easier, less scary certainly.

"You two will be the death of me," Loki muttered, earning himself a rare, lightning-fast grin from Musleen. "Shall we go and see who's in the living room?" Loki asked. "Haewkyr usually sets up a strategy game, or cards if there's a crowd."

"Let's," Musleen said. "It's been an age since I played cards."


	26. Twenty Five Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Difficult Conversations

Dorgen sat behind his desk in what used to be his father's office. He had already removed most of the decoration, gaudy as it was, and replaced it with clean, efficient lines and functional furnishings. He had had the urge, immediately after his father's death, to destroy everything the man had cherished, but had been talked out of it by his wife who had reminded him that most of it was older than his father and shouldn't be lost to history. Instead he had ordered it moved into storage, where it would no doubt remain for the rest of his reign, and possibly even Lyrren's.

The room was now one he could stand to be in, and work in.

It was work which occupied him in that moment. His main General had returned from Asgard and was advising him of the situation there, as well as the best way to build up Vanaheim's own army.

Dorgen regarded the man before him. General Hogun was a brilliant fighter, he had travelled extensively as a member of Prince Thor's entourage and had handled himself well during the most recent conflicts. Dorgen trusted his opinion on military matters, as General Hogun had proven multiple times over the years that he would put Vanaheim before anything, even his own friendship with Prince Thor.

"So you would advise increasing the ground troops?" Dorgen asked.

General Hogun nodded respectfully. "If your primary aim is to defend our borders, defensive rather than offensive, then I would recommend an increase in the number of lower ranks, get them patrolling the border areas, train them up in tracking and discipline. Specialist divisions are less important at this stage, although they can be established later. Our jousting divisions are strong and capable, as are our veteran soldiers. They can be used to train the others, there should be a good mixture of old and new soldiers in each division so as to maintain consistency across the army."

Dorgen nodded in understanding, General Hogun was not known for his speeches, but neither did he hold back when asked about important matters.

Dorgen looked up and saw the hidden question behind Hogun's eyes. 

"I'm planning to ask King Odin to remove the barrier that protects us," he said, gauging, as best he could, Hogun's reaction.

"Do you believe the threat to be gone, your Majesty?" Hogun asked respectfully.

"I do," Dorgen said.

Hogun hesitated for a moment, unsure as to whether his next question would be welcome with his new King. "What has convinced you, your Majesty?" he asked.

Dorgen's mouth twitched. "Of all the Vanir currently living on Asgard, you should know best why I believe it to be safe," he said.

Hogun raised an eyebrow. "Prince Thor took a risk, going where he did. He insisted that we not accompany him in case of misfortune."

"But there was no misfortune, no stirring of old enemies. We are no more vulnerable with the barrier down than up, not anymore, and I wish the Vanir to explore Vanaheim once more. It is a big world, and we are a growing populous, we should not be caged in like this, denied access to our own realm." Dorgen said calmly. "But at the same time I do not wish to be reckless, I will build up our army, and when they are ready they will protect us as we explore our world."

"As you wish, your Majesty." Hogun said, bowing his head.

****

Musleen stayed two nights, and spent the day in between trying to assess Loki's mental state without being caught out. He was not alone in his venture, although he was the stealthiest. Haewkyr, he noticed, appeared to be trying to distract Loki from his worries and push him into confronting them at varying intervals. Lord Fallconyr maintained a steady level of support with a level of patience many suspected he did not possess. Lord Eadgleyr was quieter, but no less firm at making sure Loki didn't let his worries consume him.

Musleen did not consider himself a judge of the mind the way the healers were, although a lifetime of reading criminals like open books had honed his already considerable natural talent, but still he felt that Loki was in the best possible hands.

During the evening of the second night, when they found themselves alone for a moment in the living room while Haewkyr relieved himself, Loki turned to Musleen and asked quietly.

"Does Camtan trust his healer completely?"

Musleen nodded, giving nothing away even as his mind noted the too casual tone and the timing, coming as it did after what was no doubt a full day of thinking things over.

"He would not have returned to her if he did not," Mulseen said in an even tone.

Loki went back to looking at the game board in front of him.

Haewkyr returned to the room. Musleen had a feeling that Loki wanted to ask more, but he did not try to dismiss the other man, if Loki wanted to talk he'd find a way.

Sure enough, not long after Musleen had retired for the night and was turning down the lights, a gentle knocking occurred on his door.

Loki stood awkwardly on the threshold. He had a stubborn look on his face, as though he did not approve of his own actions in coming there.

"Come in," Musleen said quietly and stood back to allow him entry.

Loki stepped inside, but made no attempt to move beyond his first few steps into the room.

"Is he alright?" Loki asked as though his question from earlier had been a moment ago, rather than just over an hour.

"He is," Musleen said. "He struggles sometimes, his public face has always been sunny, but he carries within him a streak of darkness, which he longs to be free from."

"Does it bother Sofftia? Is he a good father?" Loki asked.

Musleen's not inconsiderable intellect jumped immediately to the correct conclusion. Loki feared that his own troubles would make him unsuitable to be in a proper relationship, or to be a parent. Musleen was far too clever to mention it though, Loki did not like having his secrets read so easily from his mind. Were he not in such distress at the moment then his questions would be much more cleverly worded.

Then there was the question of how much of his brother's secrets to tell. It was a difficult line to walk. 

"Sofftia loves him dearly, and while he has had moments of difficulty, she has never wavered in her support of him. She knows who he is when the darkness retreats, and she loves him. Little Roasia has no idea, he says it's impossible to feel it when she is near, because she is everything his darkness isn't," Musleen said calmly.

Loki was clearly turning this information over in his mind. 

"I'm going to break the curse you know," he said at last.

Musleen nodded. "If it's there you'll break it, and if it's not you'll survive and thrive. I have faith in you Loki, I have seen what you are capable of, and I have faith in your strength."

Loki blinked hard suddenly and looked away.

"I don't feel very strong," he admitted softly.

"We all have those moments," Musleen said gently, remembering when he lost his two fingers and the feeling of despair at having to relearn so many skills. It had almost crushed him at first, to be rendered so helpless for so long.

That moment was so far away now. There was nothing he couldn't do with his left that he had once done with his right.

Maybe Loki had remembered that time too, because he gave Musleen a small smile before turning to the door.

"Thank you Musleen," he said and slipped away into the darkness of the corridor.

"You're welcome," Musleen said softly to the empty room.

He hoped that he had helped, but Musleen would have to wait to find out. Loki had such a long journey ahead of him. But, as the old motto of the Kings of Vanaheim said, Time Rules Us All. 

 

****

 

Thor was turning into a nightmare. Denied his chance to go to Vanaheim, denied his chance to speak to Loki and denied his request to take off travelling once again, he had instead decided to turn inwards, to focus on that small detail known as King Dorgen's Coronation.

He had visited the tailor's and had new clothes commissioned. Odin had approved at this, only to become annoyed when Thor insisted on having every little detail made perfect to the point that the tailor was almost in tears.

He wasn't doing it to impress the Vanir king, that much was certain.

Odin's own clothes had been altered at the request of Thor, and he was just now in the process of having them altered back. *Somehow* puffed sleeves had made an appearance.

Next Thor insisted on being involved in choosing the coronation gift from Asgard. Odin was only too happy to give him the role, until Thor rejected everything and insisted on something far grander than what Odin had originally had in mind.

He was doing this on purpose, Odin decided, to upset Odin or charm Dorgen into letting him visit Loki, possibly both, *probably* both.

It had to stop. He was driving everyone insane, and Frigga wasn't helping at all. She'd already had her gown altered to flatter Thor's new clothes.

So he had called Thor into a meeting. His wayward son was due to arrive any minute.

Assuming he even showed up, Thor had been avoiding him like he was a disease.

Odin's thoughts flashed to Loki for a moment. His second son was far away, having fled in some kind of panic in the night. Loki had never run from anything before, thinner than Thor, weaker than Thor, braver than Thor because of it...

Odin stubbornly shook his head. Loki was just punishing himself with his actions. He had Odin's permission to wed and while allowing a suitable time to pass after Dimcken's death was only right and proper, there was nothing stopping him from planning his new wedding with Thor as they waited down the days. Instead he had run back to Vanaheim. Well he couldn't stay there if he planned to wed Thor, he was just being ridiculous.

There was a knock on the door, it sounded angry.

Odin sighed, it seemed he was destined to lose both his sons to this folly.

"Enter," he called out.

His mind flashed to Lord Fallconyr's words of warning, but Odin dismissed them with a quick shake of his head as Thor entered the room. His sons would calm down, they would see sense as they matured, they were both still so young.

'Not that young really', his mind traitorously pointed out. 'They are men now, and have been for some time. The boys you knew are long gone.'

Odin tried to banish the thought as he regarded his oldest son and heir. It was undeniable though. Thor had been a man for two hundred and sixty years, give or take a few. He was not a youth. He was a young man ready to be wed.

And Loki, Loki was... was...

Wasn't here, and he had a meeting to get through.

"Thor," Odin said without preamble, "you have been making things difficult for the tailor, the goldsmiths, the servants, everyone. It seems you need to get this energy out of your system, well there's a festival for the harvest being held in the north in two weeks, I want you to go as my representative."

"Very well," Thor said, surprising Odin.

"Oh, yes, well, of course. Good," he managed.

Thor rose from his seat. "Is that all, your Majesty?" he asked.

"Yes," Odin said, still bewildered.

Thor bowed his head and walked out without another word.

Odin was relieved, it seems that all Thor had needed was something to do after all.

It was another few minutes before he realised his son had called him 'your Majesty' not 'Father'.

Odin shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He did not like this wall that Thor had put up. He really didn't like that fact that he couldn't even see the way to bring it down, let alone where to start. Wait. Were his pants wet?

They were. There was a large spot of ink on the seat of his chair. Odin stared at it in shock. First his inkwell exploded, then his papers ran, then his bath had filled with ink, now it was welling up *under* him.

He watched as it pooled in the dip before overflowing and dripping onto the floor. 

And in Vanaheim Loki whimpered in his sleep as he dreamed the dead king was dragging the Iron Chair towards him, grinning all the while.


	27. Twenty Six Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Safe in Someone Else's Memory

Musleen departed quietly the next day. He was travelling back on the full tea carts and looked for all the world like a standard cart-man and not the Prince he was.

"Suits you," Loki said as Musleen settled himself.

Musleen gave him a small smile, his eyes already scanning the horizen for the next big threat.

"I will see you at the coronation," he said, glancing back down at Loki.

"Yes," Loki confirmed. 

"I've been practising my dancing especially," Haewkyr said from behind him.

Musleen glance over Loki's head as Loki turned to regard Haewkyr.

"You hate formal functions," Loki said.

Haewkyr grinned broadly. "Which is why I'll be at the local tavern, dancing the night away with as many local beauties as takes my fancy. You two are welcome to come and find me when the good wine runs out."

Musleen's mouth twitched, Loki grinned.

"It will be Daenceia's first entry into court society, I cannot abandon her," Musleen said, "or let other believe she has led me down a worrying path. I am the first member of the royal family ever to court a lady from the commoner class."

Loki scowled. "She's a damn fine sorceress, in Asgard she'd be considered a woman fit for a Prince," he said.

"I'm glad they know how to appreciate them," Musleen said seriously.

The real cart-man arrived and climbed aboard. Musleen gave Loki and Haewkyr a wave.

"Don't do anything foolish you two," he said seriously.

"Who, us?" Haewkyr called out as the cart began to move.

"We'll only make a little trouble," Loki said.

Musleen's reply was lost to the rattling of the carts as they left through the gate.

"He should have stayed longer," Haewkyr said, resting his hands on his hips.

"He's a Prince and the King's spymaster, he has his duty to return to," Loki said.

"Thank the Norns we don't, let's go riding," Haekwyr said with a grin.

Loki tried not to flinch at the mention of the Norns, he knew Haewkyr hadn't meant to remind him. Instead he shook his head. "I have to go inside."

"Why?"

"I'm seeing the healer again."

It was said so softly Haewkyr almost didn't hear it.

"Oh, alright, that's good. We can go after."

Haewkyr tried to keep his tone light. It *was* good that Loki was returning to the healer's rooms. Certainly Haewkyr didn't want to do anything to stop him, although he couldn't help but wonder what had brought about Loki's change of mind. The last time they had spoken on the matter he had practically forced Loki to promise to return, and Loki had stormed away from him in a foul temper as a result.

It seemed Musleen's visit had been more beneficial than it had first appeared.

 

****

Loki walked to the door of the healer's chambers with a false casualness. He didn't want to be there any more than he had the first day, but he supposed that if Camtan could do it, he could. Once the curse was broken of course he wouldn't need to, but a little extra help to see him through couldn't hurt.

He still checked the corridors before knocking, in case there was anyone around who could see him.

"Come in," the healer called from the other side of the door.

Loki pushed it open and slipped quickly inside.

He glanced up at Sharewdia with a slight look of embarrassment. After all, the last time he'd been there he'd fled after only a few minutes.

She gave him a kind smile and gestured to the chair opposite her.

"Welcome back, Prince Loki, would you like to sit down?"

Loki sat. He twisted his hands together nervously, realised he was doing so and forced himself to stop.

"I apologise for leaving so suddenly last time," he said quietly.

It was difficult to get the words out. To apologise for last time would be to admit that last time ever happened.

"That's all right Loki, perhaps we ought to begin again," she said.

Loki nodded, looking at the floor. He was already wishing he hadn't come.

"How have you been?" she asked.

Loki took a deep breath.

"I've been dreaming of him," he said. He didn't have to say who. "He comes back and tries to take me with him."

"Take you with him where?" she asked gently.

"To... to the ship, to his burial ship. To go to the afterlife. He doesn't want to let me go."

"And these dreams are every night?"

"Most nights," Loki said. "Sometimes I don't dream, it's better then."

"Tell me about the Ink," she said.

Loki clenched his fists tightly. He did not want to talk about it.

"It's still there," he muttered.

"How often do you bathe?" 

Loki looked up at her, startled. 

"That's personal," he said.

She gave him a smile, which made a knot in his chest unwind slightly.

"Twice a day," he admitted. "More if it gets very bad. I'm trying not to give in to it, Grandfather told me not to let it control me."

"I think that's very sensible," Sharewdia said. "But it's important also not to suppress your feelings. Acknowledge them, but don't let them control you."

Loki took a sudden breath. He'd forgotten to breathe as she was speaking. 

"I should go," he said, standing up.

Sharewdia fixed him with a calm stare. "I would like you to stay," she said in a calm, yet firm tone.

Loki glanced at the door, then back at her. He forced another deep breath and sat down again.

"Tell me about something good," Sharewdia said. "Tell me about a good memory you have, or a good place you like."

Loki shook his head. "I can't think of one," he said.

"Take a deep breath, close your eyes if it helps. I just want you to think back and tell me about something good. Go back at far as you need to, but tell me about a good moment."

Loki stared at the carpet. He should be researching new cures, this was wasting time!

"Thor," he blurted out. "Thor is good."

Thor is good. What a ridiculous thing to say. It was true, but so *ineloquent*.

"Tell me about Thor," Sharewdia said.

Loki pinched his lips together. He didn't want to talk about Thor. Thor was *his*.

"There's a small loft above the tenth year library in the Tower," Loki said instead. "I used to go up there and read when I had nothing better to do. It was cosy and most people had no idea it even existed."

Sharewdia did not comment on the change of subject. She merely nodded at him.

"Did you feel safe there?" she asked.

Loki squirmed in his chair.

"I liked it there," he said. "I never felt *safe*, nowhere was *safe*, not from him."

Sharewdia regarded him seriously. "There must have been a time in your life when you felt safe. Tonight, before you sleep, I want you to try and focus on it. Think of a good memory, a happy memory, one where you felt safe. Can you do that for me?"

Loki couldn't speak, his throat felt too tight and he wanted to cry. Somewhere safe? Surely he'd felt safe once in his life, but the last two hundred and fifty years had ruined it for him.

He nodded anyway. He was desperate to leave. This had been a mistake. He wasn't sick, and even if he was this session was only making him feel worse.

He practically fled the room, vowing as he did that he wouldn't be going back. 

Heawkyr found him sitting on top of the castle spire, staring out at the landscape.

"I take it that it didn't go well," Haewkyr said, settling alongside him.

"She told me to think of a memory of when I was safe," Loki said. "I don't have one."

"At all? Ever?"

"Nothing springs to mind," Loki said, pouting.

"You're pouting."

"No I'm not," Loki said quickly, straightening his features.

"What about Thor?"

Why did it always have to come back to Thor?

Loki felt tears spring to his eyes. He reached into his coat and pulled out a bundle of paper.

"He's written to me," he said.

"They're unopened," Haewkyr pointed out.

Loki shoved them back in his coat. "I know," he said sharply.

"When did you first realise you loved him?" Haewkyr asked.

A wry smile graced Loki's features. "Always," he said. "In one way or another. But the first time I realised there was no one else I wanted to spend my life with was when we were out on the lake. He dropped my knife into the water, *deep* into the water. I was so angry at him! But then he jumped in after it, he disappeared under the water and stayed down so long that I got worried, I thought he was in danger, but no, he was just being Thor. He came up with the knife in his hand. He was so... triumphant, and then he kissed me."

Loki stopped talking. The thought that he'd never have that with Thor again was painful.

"Why'd you stop smiling?" Haewkyr asked. "You were smiling when you thought of him."

Loki shook his head sadly. "I can't let him be infected," he said. "I don't dare to think of him, in case it finds him."

"Can I tell you about one of my memories? Maybe you can use it if you can't think of one of your own," Haewkyr said.

Loki sighed softly. "I suppose it can't hurt."

"I was very small, just about walking age, my other told me that I was going to become an older brother. She was so certain that I'd be proud, that I'd be pleased."

"Were you?"

"I threw all my things out of my bedroom window."

"Oh."

"I threw my food at my mother's stomach every night when I was done eating."

"Oh dear."

"I insisted on sleeping in their bed *every* night. When my father put me back into my room I'd escape and beat him back to the bedroom."

"You terror, you."

"And then, despite all my best efforts, my baby sister was born. I refused to look at her, I refused and stamped my little foot...

...and then my mother put her in my arms, and I became a brother, I felt a love so powerful that I'd take on the realm if it meant saving her, if it meant making her *smile*."

"I don't think I can imagine holding a little sister," Loki said doubtfully.

"Don't," Haewkyr said. "Imagine being held by your big brother, who would take on *his* realm for you. Imagine being warm and safe in the arms of someone who cannot love you more even if they tried. Even if you had never found each other in a different way, he'd still love you, he'd still burn to keep you safe. Imagine that, because I can guarantee that it happened, even if you can't remember it."

Haewkyr waited for a minute while Loki rubbed his sleeve over his eyes.

"I don't know what you're going through, but if I were you I'd read his letters. He's reaching out to you. If my sister were in another realm and not answering letters I'd be beside myself with terror."

Loki didn't answer, he was staring fiercely at the horizon. 

"Don't stay up here all night," Haewkyr said, and left Loki to his thoughts.


	28. Twenty Seven Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frustrations Regarding Declarations of Love

_My Dearest Loki,_

_I saw the note you left for me, I promise not to enter your chambers, nor will I let another enter until you say that it is safe._

_Loki, I want you to know that I love you. Never doubt that in any way whatsoever. I *love* you, and I want to see you again. I swear that whatever this thing is I will stand against it with you. I have written to King Dorgen and asked to visit you, but he has refused until after the coronation. I await that day with impatience, I admit. I long to see you again._

_I love you,_

_Thor_

Loki stared at the letter in the firelight. He still had four more in his possession. They lay on the table beside Thor's knife, which Loki had used to open the letter currently in his hand. Thor's words were like a salve to his wound, and yet he still feared that the Ink would destroy Thor, ruin him, and it would be Loki's fault.

But if Loki could *fix* the problem, *fight* the Ink and *defeat it*, then maybe, just maybe, there was a chance they could be together. But it was such a long fight, and it was all ahead of him. 

Right now it seemed impossible.

Loki sighed and shifted in his chair. A tiny smile graced his features that had nothing to do with humour. He'd once thought of his marriage to the King as a long, impossible fight. But the King was dead now. It was *over*, truly over. Perhaps there would be a day far in the future when even this long fight would be behind him.

Tears stung his eyes as he stared into the fire. He had promised that he would fight this, but deep down inside he knew that it was hopeless. Thor was beyond him, these letters were only torture, nothing more. 

And yet...

He glanced at the others. He'd been here almost a week and Thor had sent him five letters. He clearly wasn't giving up. 

Loki shouldn't either. As long as Thor was fighting, Loki couldn't give up, because he couldn't let Thor down.

There was a new potion simmering away in the properties room. It wouldn't be ready for another three days, but then it was so much more powerful than the other one he'd tried.

****

That night, before bed, Loki tried to imagine being held by an excitable toddler in the shape of Thor, but after a moment the image shifted to a rocking boat, and a shirt rapidly soaking up water from the fully grown Thor lying above him...

...and Loki stood by the lake, with Thor holding him from behind.

"He's here," Loki said.

"I'll fight him," Thor said.

"I don't know if you can," Loki said.

"I'll hold him back from you," Thor said. "I'll keep you safe until you're ready."

"Ready for what?" Loki asked as, from the centre of the lake, the burial ship rose silently.

Thor's grip tightened around Loki's waist.

"Ready to stop him yourself," he said as the dead King floated towards them, eyes sunken in, the skin on his cheeks drooping with decay.

"I can't stop him," Loki whispered.

Thor held out a hand and the dead King slammed into a shield that shimmered like the golden defences of Asgard.

"How...?" Loki asked in wonder.

"I love you," Thor said simply. "I'll hold back the world for you. I failed you Loki, I should have fought, but I trusted in Father and I trusted that you would at least be well cared for, but that trust was misplaced, and I will never let anyone hurt you like that again."

The dead King floated beyond the shield, unable to reach them.

"Can you do it forever?" Loki asked.

"For all eternity," Thor promised.

"I'll need you to," Loki said.

"You won't," Thor said softly, nuzzling Loki's hair gently. "You'll defeat him yourself, Loki. You are strong, and fierce, and terrible when roused. You will fight him, and you will beat him. I believe in you, I believe in your spirit."

"I wish I did," Loki whispered as the dead King bumped aimlessly against the shield.

Loki closed his eyes and let the feeling of Thor holding him become his world.

When Loki opened his eyes in the morning the first thing he felt was a sense of peace. It wouldn't last of course, but for a moment he felt as though Thor's shield was still around him, keeping out the Ink.

He sat up and reached for Thor's next letter in a sudden burst of energy. He ripped the envelope open and pulled out the page, feeling a twinge of guilt for not reading any of them sooner. He should have, Thor was reaching out to him, and the moment he realised what he was facing he should have reached back, if only a little.

_My Dearest Loki,_

_I feel so frustrated at being this far away from you. My heart aches to see you again. It takes all of my resolve to obey King Dorgen and remain where I am. Whatever you seek in Vanaheim, are you certain you cannot find it in Asgard? I will help you Loki, I swear it. And if you must be away from me, know that I think of you often, and await your return with love in my heart._

_All my love,_

_Thor_

Loki glanced at the remaining letters. It wasn't fair, what this was doing to Thor, but what else could he do? The answer, when he found it, would not be on Asgard. The new potion, which had held such promise in his mind last night, now seemed to have lost its shine.

What he really needed was to talk to the Norns, to try and understand why they were so angry, to confront them and demand that they let him be with Thor. Surely his new fate couldn't change *that* much? 

Except he wasn't meant to be with Thor, he was meant to be dead.

Well too bad. He and Thor were meant to be together, the Norns would just have to get used to it.

They controlled everything, they would probably just kill him.

Except that if they were going to do that, then they would have done it already. Clearly they couldn't cut his lifeline without some kind of outside assistance. That was why they sent the Ink.

The Ink that would wear him down until he died. 

No, he'd fight it, for Thor.

What if he lost?

With a groan of despair Loki thumped back down against the pillows.

****

The new potion did not work, although it did make Loki’s magic feel strange and fizzy for a few days. He turned his attention instead to ways to contact the Norns. It was not commonly done, and he grew frustrated as he searched fruitlessly among the texts in the library.

_Dearest Loki,_

_I miss you more every day, I have fought with Odin again about you. He is a stubborn old man and a fool. He lost his temper and shouted at me, although that may have something to do with the curious phenomenon that keeps happening to him. I do not care what his reasons are though, I have resolved not to speak to him again unless there is no way of avoiding it._

_Mother sends her love. She begs of you to send word that you are well, and wishes you to know that she hopes to visit after the coronation, as do I._

_Is there anything I can send to you? Any comfort from home that you are missing? I swore I would not go into your chambers and I haven’t, but if there is anything you can think of I would be happy to send it on._

_All my love,_

_Thor_

****

Lord Eadgleyr insisted that Loki get some fresh air every day. Lord Fallconyr continued to demand his presence in the Properties Room, and Haewkyr kept reminding him that Lightning was eager to go for a run.

Sharewdia continued to welcome him every time he came, although privately she felt frustrated as time went on and he still insisted that his problems could be solved with a spell.

She was known for her patience though, it was one of the reasons why she was the best. Loki would come around, and she doubted that it would be a gentle awakening. For now she remained calm, accepting and tried as much as possible to be a safe place for Loki to visit.

In this way the months slowly past.


	29. Twenty Eight Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Observations

Three months after the death of the Last King, King Dorgen stood before a full length mirror and stared at himself in distaste.

"It's so colourful," he muttered, and not for the first time. He preferred darker, more elegant, clothing on the whole.

"The official crowning robes need to be seen by as many people as possible," Mulmyr said gently, picking an invisible speck of dust off his shoulder. "You can change for the feast."

"Have the last of the guests arrived?" Dorgen asked.

Musleen nodded from where he was leaning against a side table, the latest security files in his hand. "All arrived and neatly shelved away," he said.

Mulmyr gave him a slightly rebuking look as Dorgen tried not to laugh. 

"They are *people* Musleen," she said.

"Yes, and they are here to eat our food and wish us well to our faces while judging my brother's competence. Also, they move. All the time they move about, making my job so much more difficult." Musleen said evenly while never once taking his eyes from the files in front of him. 

Mulmyr's mouth twitched. She liked her brother-in-law, but then she had known him since he was very young. His serious nature as a child had been of quiet concern to her, a clear reflection of the trauma of his mother's supposed death. It had taken many years for his dry wit to emerge, and it had really only been with the arrival of Loki, and subsequently meeting Daenceia, that had led to his willingness to allow a smile and even a low chuckle pass his lips. 

That new levity was not reflected in his clothing. The King's spymaster wore dark blue and grey, well made, but intimidating. His dark blond hair was swept back into a severe look which was supposed to make him look fierce but clashed with his boyish face. And yet even this Musleen had made work for him. Those who saw him for the first time were taken aback by his appearance and immediately found themselves on the back foot.

"I thought Odin looked old," Dorgen said, "around the eyes."

"Thor is no longer speaking to him and has spent the last three months travelling Asgard, visiting the people," Musleen said. Mulmyr did not ask if he was sure, he was. "Queen Frigga stays in isolation for the most part, his family is imploding and he is feeling the strain."

"Good," Dorgen muttered, before cowering faintly under a look from his wife.

"She's my best friend from childhood, dear," Mulmry reminded him gently.

"I'm sorry," Dorgen said in a low voice, "there are no winners here," he added.

"How is Loki?" Mulmyr said, looking over at Musleen.

"He arrived with Lords Fallconyr and Eadgleyr last night. He seems well on the outside, but Daenceia spoke to him last night and she says he's nervous about seeing Thor again."

"Have they communicated at all since he came back here?" she asked.

"They've written a few times. Haewkyr told me that Loki writes each letter out three times to ensure that all the 'filthy Ink' is not on the last one."

"That poor child," Mulmyr said softly as Dorgen frowned deeply.

"I should have just killed the bastard," he muttered. "As soon as he announced his engagement."

"If I recall, you were being controlled by the resistance at the time. If killing him had been possible, they would no doubt have tried to make you do it," Musleen said.

Dorgen frowned more deeply. "It was suggested actually, but then Loki arrived and they thought that they'd keep me innocent so that there would be no question surrounding me taking the throne."

"*I'd* still have had questions," Musleen said dryly.

"That's why they tried so hard to kill you," Dorgen said, tugging the last piece of robe into position.

Musleen's mouth twitched a little.

"You're proud of that, aren't you?!" Dorgen asked suddenly, whirling around to face his little brother. "You damn well are!"

"Actually being targeted is a terrible experience, I assure you," Musleen said, "but brother, they only did it because I was a danger to them, let me enjoy *that* knowledge at least."

Dorgen scowled. "You're the first Spymaster to last more than a hundred years in that job," he said. "I worry about you."

Musleen smiled a rare smile. "Perhaps I'm just very good at what I do?"

Dorgen gave a reluctant nod.

"Or perhaps," Mulmyr said, "the people can see that you do more than just spy on them. You fight for them in the justice courts, you won't let an innocent man hang. Even the nobles respect you for that."

The tips of Musleen's ears turned red at the praise. *How* he'd ever managed to be a master of interrogation Mulmyr just could not fathom.

"Perhaps," he said quietly.

"Watch out for Woalfen, I noticed he arrived from his lands yesterday," Dorgen said. "He'll be wanting to dance with you brother."

Musleen did not react. "He's long since given me up as a lost cause Dorgen, I hear he's married now," he said.

"Is this the youngest of your cousins?" Mulmyr asked.

"Second youngest, there's also the other one, um, Formalen, he arrived from Asgard where he’s been hiding from father for centuries, since the ‘incident’. They're both a little older than Musleen, and Woalfen is completely in love with him," Dorgen said with a blank face.

"No he's not," Musleen said, "He had a crush when we were younger."

"When *you* were younger, you'd barely come of age if I recall," Dorgen said.

Musleen shrugged. "At least he waited until then," he said.

"How much older is he?" Mulmyr asked, curiously.

"About halfway between myself and Musleen, so-"

"Young enough that it would be fine now, old enough that it wasn't fine then," Musleen said. "And as I said, he's given up; I was never entranced by the male form."

"No, a pretty dancer will do for you," said Camtan, entering the room from behind him. "I don't blame you either, brother, our cousins are not the kindest bunch."

"She's a lot more than pretty," Musleen said with a slight hint of warning. He could be quite protective at times.

Camtan winked at Dorgen. "No she isn't," he said. "Pretty dangerous, pretty deadly, pretty impressive, pretty clever, pretty fierce, I'd say she was nothing *but* pretty actually."

Musleen groaned at the bad joke as Dorgen smothered a grin.

"Are you ready?" Camtan asked, "because they're all waiting. The crowds are enormous."

"Come on then," Dorgen sighed, "let's get this over with."

The four of them left the room and headed to the great hall.

“Should any of you happen to see me slip away with the King of Asgard tonight, I would ask you not to say anything,” Musleen said suddenly as they walked.

“Musleen! I’m shocked! And also a little disturbed,” Camtan said.

“I’ve got plans,” Musleen said darkly in a rare show of emotion.

“You aren’t going to start a war are you?” Dorgen asked. 

“No,” Museen said. “There’s just something I have to do, and I would appreciate being left to do it.”

“I’m not saying anything,” Camtan said. “You’ve got that look in your eye. Someone’s going to get hurt tonight.”

“Tell me what you’re planning right now,” Dorgen said. “I trust you brother, I do, but he is the King of Asgard. I can’t let you plot against him.”

Musleen told him.

Dorgen raised an eyebrow as Mulmyr paled.

“Are you certain that is wise?” Dorgen asked as an evil glint came into Camtan’s eyes.

“He damn well deserves it,” Camtan said before Musleen could speak. “Well done brother, I don’t think I could ever stomach setting that up.”

“It wasn’t pleasant,” Musleen said, looking steadily at Dorgen. “Brother please? It won’t hurt him, on the outside.”

“Are you hoping that it will on the inside?” Dorgen asked.

“Hoping, but sadly not expecting. Nevertheless I feel that I must do this,” Musleen said.

“Then I won’t stop you. The worst that can happen is he’ll be embarrassed and tell no one. I can live with that,” Dorgen said.

They set off again. At one point the two younger princes split off and went into the hall via the side doors. Dorgen and Mulmyr made their way to the grand entrance.

The servants there bowed to them as they arrived.

Dorgen acknowledged them before turning to Mulmyr.

“Last chance to escape our destiny,” he joked quietly, before leaning in and kissing her on the lips.

“You are going to be a wonderful King,” she replied with a smile.

Dorgen signalled the servants to open the doors; the coronation had begun.

****

Loki was standing with his family, right next to Thor. They had not yet had a chance to speak, as he had arrived almost too late to be allowed in at all. Nerves had kept him hovering outside.

The night before a servant had delivered Loki’s official clothes for the coronation. They were very fine and suited him perfectly. If he was to be honest with himself he would have assumed that Odin would forget him when ordering them for the royal family, but the note from Thor on the top revealed that such a thing would never be allowed to happen.

In the three months Loki had been away he had struggled with the Ink on a daily basis. Every cleansing potion he’d tried had failed to remove it, or even hold it back.

Sharewdia had told him that the Ink would only retreat when he felt he had the power to do it himself, but healers were always talking nonsense like that.

She’d told him to tell himself every day that he loved himself, and that he was worthy of such love. To placate Haewkyr and his Grandparents he had complied, talking to himself in the mirror each morning.

It had been harder than he’d first thought. He kept avoiding his own eyes, choosing instead to roll them in sarcasm to get through the exercise. 

Thor had continued to write, and Loki had eventually put pen to paper and replied. It had been difficult to find things to say, but eventually he told Thor everything he knew, including the interesting fact that his timeline had been changed, and lengthened considerably.

Thor’s reply had been curiously lacking in information, although he had said that that was the sort of conversation they ought to have in person.

Unfortunately due to Loki’s delaying, they now had to sit through an entire coronation side by side before being able to say so much as a word to one another.

Thor’s eyes had lit up at the sight of him, which made Loki’s heart melt, and as he stood there, watching Dorgen become the true King of Vanaheim, he allowed himself a daydream in which he and Thor were already married, had been for years, and they were attending this coronation as husband and wife. As long as they didn’t say anything to one another he could pretend that it was just protocol. Later on, when the awkwardness between them prevented them from speak yet *again*, he would have to drop the fantasy.

Daenceia was standing with the minor nobles in the crowd. She looked stunning. Loki caught her eye and managed a smile.

She returned it, along with a look that said plainly: Can you believe I’m here? Me? *Me?*

There was a part of him that didn’t believe it; under the last king commoners were lower than dirt, and yet here she was. There were changes happening everywhere, and fast too.

He wished he and Thor could change as fast.

The speeches were long and boring. Many things were said that were frankly unnecessary and only left in by tradition. Finally, the Master of Ceremonies, whose name Loki *still* didn’t know, placed a crown on Dorgen’s head, saying “The people rule the land, you rule the people, and time rules us all.”

Dorgen rose, took the second crown, and placed it on Mulmyr’s head, smiling as he did so. She bowed to him, then they turned to face the crowd.

Everyone bowed, Loki one of the lowest. He had great respect for Dorgen, and could barely believe that he’d once despised him.

Time had changed his mind, time had changed Dorgen’s mind about him. Time rules us all indeed.

Perhaps time *would* bring him back to Thor, as soon as he took care of the Norns. He’d go to the Tower tomorrow, and he wouldn’t leave the capitol until he had an answer.

It was time for the procession. Thor gave him a smile as they walked out behind the new King and his court.

“Love you,” he whispered, breaking the rule of no talking.

Loki felt a flush of warmth go through him.

“Love you too,” he breathed.

Despite his nerves of the talk that lay ahead of them, he felt his heart flutter in his chest at being close to Thor again.


	30. Twenty Nine Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Celebration and an Accusation

The procession took two hours to make. It seemed as though the entire population of Vanaheim had come to the capital to see their new King.

It was a good thing that it took so long, as the servants had exactly that long to transform the Great Hall from a coronation site, where everyone stood, to a feast site, where everyone was seated properly.

Loki and Thor walked into the Hall together and admired the decorations.

“The Vanir really know how to add…” Thor trailed off, searching for the word.

“Glamour?” Loki suggested. “Sparkle? A touch of magic?”

“Yes, all of that,” Thor said with a smile.

Loki suddenly felt all warm inside.

“We should find our seats,” he said.

Thor gestured to where their parents had already been seated. “Somewhere over there I suspect,” he said.

They walked there side by side. Loki wanted very badly to take Thor’s hand, but the Ink stopped him. 

‘Soon’ he told himself, ‘soon I will find a way to talk to the Norns and then I can be with him.’

Their seats were indeed next to their parents’. Frigga gave Loki a smile as he sat down.

“Loki, darling, how have you been?” she asked immediately, her eyes searching him for signs of bad health.

“I am well, Mother, I have been well looked after. Grandfather and Grandmother are here somewhere, you can ask them yourself,” Loki said.

“I see them, they’re over on the far table. I’ll have to talk to them later,” Frigga said.

Loki glanced up then, into the eye of his father.

Odin looked stern, he made as if to say something, but stopped himself. “I would like to talk to you later, Loki, when things are more relaxed,” he said instead.

Frigga frowned, and Thor’s face went dark.

“I told you he has nothing to do with it,” Thor said in a low voice.

Loki frowned in puzzlement, looking between each member of his family. Odin gave him a warning look before turning to face the high table.

Dorgen had stood up and was waiting for silence. It came swiftly, nobody wanted to be the one who spoke over the new King.

“Let the coronation feast begin,” he said in a clear voice, raising his glass and drinking from his wine.

Loki raised his glass with the others and toasted Dorgen, as Dorgen and his wife began eating samples of each food from their platters. It was quite hard to see what they had and had not eaten, but the servants seemed to know as they took each dish and began offering it to those nearest them.

Loki had them pile his plate high with food, mostly to show Frigga that he wasn’t wasting away. Thanks in part to Haewkyr, he had gained a little confidence in the past few months in his ability to fight the Ink, or at least hold it off until he could convince the Norns to remove it.

Thor was eating with every sign of enjoyment. It was only because Loki was so hyper-aware of him that he spotted the careful looks Thor kept shooting in his direction. But that was fair, he was probably trying to see the Ink.

Talking was still proving to be difficult. Loki wanted to chat away the way they used to, but with such big and difficult topics between them, trivial matters had no chance of survival.

Instead Loki spoke to Frigga about the tea fields.

“We go out most days, Haewkyr and I, to check the fences and help with the crops. It’s never ending work, but I enjoy it.”

“You’d rather be a farmer than a prince?” Odin asked suddenly, his tone harsh.

Loki flushed as Thor growled beside him. “Loki can do whatever he damn well pleases,” Thor said.

Frigga shot them all a warning look. “We are on foreign soil,” she said, “on display for all to see. *Stop* fighting.”

Odin turned back to his meal as Loki tried to work out what he’d done *this* time to upset his father.

Thor leaned in closer to him and murmured. “He’s been horrible these past few months, something keeps attacking him, some kind of curse, he suspects you.”

Loki was shocked. Him?! He’d barely made it back to Asgard before leaving again and Odin suspected *him*?

Furious, he turned to speak to Odin, only to catch the eye of his mother. Now was not the time, her expression said.

Reluctantly, Loki turned back to his food. It seemed like it would never be the time. But he could see her point.

The rest of the meal was eaten in silence, as was the dessert. Loki risked glance at Thor a few times, almost as though to reassure himself that he was really there, in the flesh, but said nothing more.

After the dessert, there was dancing. Dorgen led his wife to the floor and it soon filled up with people. Loki actually felt a tiny bit left out at seeing it. He supposed that he could ask someone, although as Queen he had not been expected to. He’d quite like the dancing, after he learnt the steps.

All of a sudden, Haewkyr was at his shoulder. “Dance?” he asked with a smile.

“I thought you were spending the evening at the local tavern?” Loki asked.

“Maybe later, right now Grandmother is still monitoring my every move,” Haewkyr said.

His eyes slid sideways to where Thor sat.

“Haewkyr, this is Thor, your cousin, Thor, Haewkyr,” Loki said.

“The man who fixes fences,” Thor said.

“And the Prince of Asgard,” Haewkyr replied. 

Thor stood and the two clasped hands. Haewkyr was an inch taller, apart from that they were almost identical, and their respective grips were like iron.

Thor’s mouth was set into a straight line. By contrast, Haewkyr was grinning.

“Would you like to dance, Prince Thor?” he asked.

Thor released his grip on Haewkyr’s wrist. “I do not know these dances,” he admitted.

“You can dance the Step-in-Time,” Loki said, “that’s an easy one to pick up on the fly.”

Thor did not look overly pleased at the thought of dancing. “Perhaps another time,” he said.

Haewkyr tugged on Loki’s sleeve. “Come on, let’s dance,” he said.

Loki glanced at Thor, who had sat back down.

Thor looked back at him. “Do you not wish to dance?” he asked. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

Loki turned and walked with Haewkyr to the floor.

“Were you waiting for him to give you permission?” Haewkyr asked bluntly.

Loki flushed, he had been actually, without meaning to.

“Assert yourself more,” Haewkyr said. “He’s clearly happy for you to make your own decisions, which shows that he cares for your happiness.”

“You picked up all of that based on half a dozen words and a handshake?” Loki asked as they began to dance.

“That and the way he kept looking at you all through the feast. He’s smitten, it’s nice to see. You deserve someone who can respect you,” Haewkyr said. 

“He does respect me,” Loki said, almost as though the thought had just occurred. “He always has.”

“Good, now, I’m sneaking off some time around midnight. If for any reason you feel like coming with me, I’ll wait for a bit by the side door over there. If you don’t show by a quarter past I’ll assume you are happy to stay here,” Haewkyr said.

“I can’t think why I’d want to leave,” Loki said uncertainly.

“Just in case,” Haewkyr said.

On the other side of the dance floor a minor scandal was taking place. Musleen was dancing with a beautiful and mysterious stranger, otherwise known as Daenceia, who was moving with perfect poise and grace.

Gossip travelled quickly, and Loki overheard one couple near him theorising that she was a noble lady from Asgard with family connections in Vanaheim. Another had announced that they were *sure* she was an elf of some kind, wearing a glamour for the night.

Loki looked at Haewkyr and rolled his eyes. “It’s a kind of madness, isn’t it?” he asked.

Haewkyr just grinned at him. “Time rules us all,” he said cheerfully, “and time will see changes so big that one day it will be normal to see an uncommon commoner dancing with a Prince.”

****

Thor sat in his seat and tried not to worry. It was very difficult. For one thing Loki was dancing with a young, handsome, extremely *charismatic* man who happened to have a lot in common, physically, with Thor himself. Loki looked quite relaxed in Haewkyr’s company too. He was talking to him easily, and Haewkyr kept grinning, which was making Loki smile little smiles.

Thor struggled to say two words to him, let alone make him smile.

But he was determined not to push things. He and Loki had a very difficult conversation ahead of them. Loki’s revelation that he knew about his altered timeline had been shocking to Thor, but not as shocking as the assumptions he’d made as a result. Thor *had* to correct him, *had* to tell him that the Norns were not angry with him, not cursing him, that they were *pleased* with the change, as it gave them a whole new future to look upon, not just for Loki but everyone he interacted with, and everyone *they* then interacted with as a result.

He and Loki might have children one day, completely new lives and timelines that the Norns could enjoy watching. It was a wonderful thing as far as they were concerned.

But he had to tell Loki.

“Thor, stop frowning,” Odin muttered from his right. “You are the Crown Prince of Asgard, don’t let your jealousy show.”

Jealousy? Thor wasn’t jealous. Well, maybe a little, a very little, but only of the way Haewkyr could talk so easily to Loki. He wasn’t jealous, he was concerned.

Trust Odin not to know the difference.

The song ended and Loki came back, shooting Thor a small, nervous-looking smile as he did so.

“Where’s Haewkyr?” Thor asked, trying to sound not-jealous.

“He went to grab a drink,” Loki said. “Where’s Mother?”

“She’s talking to her parents,” Odin said, standing up suddenly. “Loki I wish to speak to you.”

“Now, your Majesty? Really?” Thor asked.

“Now,” Odin said. “Our rooms are not far, we will go there now that everyone is moving about.”

Loki reluctantly went to follow Odin. Thor rose from his chair as if to come as well.

“Stay Thor, go and wish the Royal couple well,” Odin said.

Thor’s face turned dark.

“Protest and I will send you home right now,” Odin said.

Thor sank back into his seat, concern on every line of his face.

Loki followed Odin out, a nervous feeling building in his stomach. As soon as they left the room Thor shot up out of his chair and set out after them. He followed at a small distance, trying to go unnoticed.

Thor watched as Odin led Loki into the apartments set aside for Asgard’s royal family and closed the door.

****

“There’s a small private balcony not far from here, down the corridor, through the doors at the end, turn left and through the doors at the other end,” said a voice from behind Thor. “It might be a good idea to take Loki there when he comes out. I doubt he’ll want to go back to the feast.”

He turned, startled that someone had managed to sneak up on him.

It was the young man from his vision of Loki’s dark future. The one who had watched his lover be hacked apart and who, in a moment of despair and weakness, had begun the affair with Loki that had allowed Odin to break his vow.

Thor had discovered not too long ago that this man’s name was Musleen, and that he was the old King’s second son, and the current King’s spymaster.

“Thank you,” Thor said carefully.

He felt a flash of anger at the sight of Musleen, if the man had just kept his damn hands to himself – 

\- but that man had been traumatised, he’d watched his lover die in the most brutal fashion. That entire future was nothing but a horror story. Thor let his anger die. This man was not that man, and the reason he wasn’t that man was because of what Thor did.

“Loki’s not well,” Musleen said, his blue eyes boring into Thor’s as though he could read his very soul. 

Perhaps he could, there were stories about the mysterious Musleen.

“I know,” Thor said. “I want to help him.”

“I hope that you can,” Musleen said, before turning away. “He loves you very much,” he added. “even though right now he cannot seem to express it.” 

“I love him too,” Thor insisted. “I’d die for him.”

“Will you live for him?” Musleen shot back. “Every day, with every struggle, will you live for him, and with him? Will you help him face his challenges?”

“Yes,” Thor said, with no doubt in his mind.

The very tips of the corners of Musleen’s mouth turned up. It was so tiny Thor wasn’t entirely certain that he’d seen it.

“Good,” Musleen said. “I’m going to torture your father, is that alright with you?”

****

Odin gestured to one of the chairs the moment he shut the door.

“Sit,” he said.

Loki sat, still watching Odin carefully. He had no idea what was going on.

Odin sat as well, after carefully checking the chair for… something. Loki wasn’t sure what.

“I have been experiencing some trouble these past three months,” Odin said. “I’ll get right to the point Loki. What spell have you cast?”

Loki frowned. “I haven’t cast anything,” he said.

Odin sighed in frustration. “So it is just a co-incidence then, that you write of fantasy inks and stains and feeling unclean and I find myself dealing with the reality?”

“What?” Loki asked, genuinely confused. “There’s no fantasy, there’s a curse-“

“So you admit you cursed me?” Odin said, anger in his voice. “You will drop it right now!”

Loki shook his head. Something was very wrong here, Odin wasn’t making any sense at all.

“No, *I’m* cursed. The Ink is real, the Norns did it. I haven’t cursed you.”

“So the fact that my writings keep smearing to fill the pages, or my bathwater fills up with ink, or that I find it rising from my chair is *completely* unrelated to you? What are the chances of that?” Odin roared.

Loki stared at him in shock. “It’s got to you,” he whispered, going as pale as a ghost. “It’s found you and it’s trying to get you too.” He leaned forward, eyes wide with hope. “Father we must unite our resources and contact the Norns! We must make them leave us alone!”

Odin looked at Loki in fury. “Don’t you give me this story about the Norns,” he hissed. “Undo your wicked curse right now!”

Loki shook his head. “Father, no, I haven’t-“

He stopped as Odin looked down. Dripping out from beneath Odin’s ceremonial robe was thick, black, Ink.

Loki stared in horror as it started to pool onto the floor.

“You little-“ Odin started to growl.

He stopped when Loki screamed. Loki was staring at the Ink in terror, his face contorted into panic. Odin took a step forward and Loki leaped from his chair and fled the room, slamming against the doors hard enough to throw them open.

“Loki!” Odin called out, but Loki was gone.


	31. Thirty Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Revelation and a Realisation

Loki ran at full tilt down the corridor, only to crash into Thor’s waiting arms.

“Loki! Loki, it’s alright, I’m here,” he said, pulling Loki close.

Loki struggled to push him away. “No, no, no,” he moaned. “It’ll get you, it’ll get you, let go.”

Thor pulled him swiftly along the corridors and through to the balcony beyond.

“Here,” he said, letting go. “We can stay here, it’s private.”

Loki backed away from him, he was shaking with fear and his eyes looked wild.

“It’s after me,” he whispered.

“What is?” Thor asked gently, trying, without being noticed, to stand between Loki and the door. As much as he didn’t want to make Loki feel confined, they were in a foreign palace filled with nobles who could not, under any circumstances, be allowed to see Loki like this.

Loki moaned and hugged his arms against himself. “The Ink,” he moaned, “The Ink attacked Father, it came from under his robes. The Norns are after us, they’ll come after you too.”

Thor shook his head. Now was the time. It wasn’t a good time, but Loki was almost mad with fear.

“No Loki, the Norns do not hate you, they do not wish to hurt you. They were pleased that I changed your fate,” he said, bracing himself for Loki’s reaction.

Loki stared at him as though he’d never seen him before. His eyes were wide and for a long moment he didn’t say anything.

“What?” he managed at last in a weak voice.

“The Norns told me that they were tired of knowing all the fates of all men. They were pleased with my change as it gave them something new,” Thor said, trying to keep his voice gentle. “There is no curse on you Loki, there never was. I don’t know what is happening with Odin but it’s not the Norns. They are pleased.”

Loki was shaking his head, his eyes were wide with madness.

“No, you’re wrong, it has to be the Norns,” he babbled. “It has to be a curse, if it’s not a curse then I’m sick, and if I’m sick I can’t marry you, you can’t have a mad queen, you can’t have me, I can’t be with you, Thor _I can’t be with you._ ”

He folded up then, crouched on the ground as tears began to fall.

Thor went to him, wrapped himself around Loki’s hunched form and held him tightly. 

“You’ve been through terrible things, my love, things I never could have imagined, there is nothing wrong with you, nothing. I love you,” he said, rocking Loki gently back and forth as Loki sobbed.

“You don’t know it all,” Loki said through his tears. “I’ll never be well, never, after what he did to me.”

“I love you anyway,” Thor swore.

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew,” Loki blurted.

Thor took a deep breath. This was going to be difficult. 

“I do know,” he said softly. “Loki I saw it all in the Norn’s spinning wheel. I saw what he did to you, all of it, everything. I will never forgive myself for letting you go, and I Still. Love. You.”

This last part was accompanied by gentle squeezes, as though Thor was trying to make Loki understand through his arms what his words were trying to say.

Loki gasped for air between his sobs. He was damaged. It was true, what they’d all been saying. His stupid quest to contact the Norns seemed so childish now, so blind. He was broken by the King, a toy that had provided what entertainment it could and now could be thrown away.

But Thor still loved him.

Thor saw it all and still loved him.

How?

****  
It took Odin some time to clean the ink off. He had to change all of his underclothes. Loki’s reaction had startled him. He had expected anger, not terror. Now he was puzzled. If it wasn’t Loki causing the ink to appear then who could it be? It seemed like such a certain answer, given Loki’s insistence on being followed by an ink of his own.

Maybe his son really was that good of an actor? But the terror had seemed so genuine…

Odin scowled as he left the chambers. He had to get back to the feast. Loki surely wouldn’t be there and the absence of both of them for so long would cause people to comment. It was bad enough that Loki had fled back to Vanaheim after less than a week in Asgard.

Odin shut the door behind him and turned, only to be confronted by a young man with dark blond hair and piercing, dark blue eyes.

‘Musleen’ Odin thought. He’d read about the man. So young, and yet so talented in the art of investigation and interrogation.

Of course he would have noticed their absence, and it would be just like him to follow.

“Prince Musleen,” Odin greeted politely.

“Your Majesty,” Musleen replied, inclining his head in a way that seemed to be respectful. His expression was a careful mask. “I believe you should follow me,” he continued. “There is something you must see before returning to the feast.”

Odin looked at him suspiciously, Musleen’s face was *almost* unreadable, but there was a glint in his eye that gave him away. He was trying to be intimidating, but Odin was the King of Asgard with many years of experience dealing with people trying to intimidate him. It wasn’t going to work.

“I’m not convinced of that,” Odin said, by way of a challenge, curious to see what the boy would do when he refused to be steered.

Musleen inclined his head again. “You have no interest in the whereabouts of your sons? And after one of them seemed so upset too?” he said.

Odin resisted the urge to scowl. Musleen was good, yes. Smooth? Very. But Odin had played this game for a long time. The boy was trying to play with an adult, and the signs were showing. Did he think that his clumsy attempt at a veiled threat would work? As though the reputation of Asgard’s princes could be somehow brought low by the third in line to Vanaheim’s throne?

Odin took a step towards him, only to realise that this had the effect of bring their height difference to prominence. Musleen was several inches taller than him. But still, Odin had learnt to think tall over the years, and managed to look down at Musleen even as his head was forced to tilt upwards.

“My sons will conduct themselves any way they see fit,” he said, “and if some… person from another realm feels that their behaviour is in some way inappropriate then that person is wrong, do I make myself clear?”

Musleen inclined his head again, it was an annoying habit that Odin dearly wanted to smack out of him.

“Perfectly, your Majesty, please allow me to escort you back to the feast,” he said, his voice trembling just slightly.

Odin nodded, please to see the tightness around Musleen’s eyes as he realised who he was dealing with.

Musleen led him back through the corridors, down one, up a short flight of stairs, through a doorway…

They were outside, on a balcony, overlooking – 

Loki, and Thor. Loki was sobbing, truly sobbing in a heart wrenching fashion as Thor struggled to console him.

It was painful to even listen to.

Odin realised that Musleen had tricked him and turned to speak, only to freeze at the look the Prince was giving him, sort of… calculating. His expression clearly said _‘I know all your secrets, every last one, I know what you love, what you hate, I know about the things you have told yourself over and over, that your son will be alright, that he’ll learn valuable lessons and a little time under someone else’s roof won’t hurt him. I know about the thoughts you have never told anyone, not even your wife.’_

_And I do not approve._

Odin pushed past him and strode down the corridor, furious at having been played by a man less than half his age. Musleen walked beside him, silently, at first.

“He needs a lot of help,” he said, heading down the right hand turnoff in the corridor.

Odin followed automatically, not even realising that he was being herded until he walked through a second set of doors and into someone’s chambers.

He shook his head in confusion.

“Let me know if there’s anything you want to know the purpose of,” Musleen said from behind him.

Odin frowned at him, then looked again.

He’d though the room was filled with clothes and possessions, but now that he looked more closely he saw… items. Intimate items, and costumes, quite a few of them, whips, ropes, artificial manhoods.

He turned back to Musleen in disgust.

“My father’s collection,” Musleen said calmly, his face expressionless. “He did enjoy himself immensely. He like to… play.”

The last word was said in the same tone Frigga would have used to say ‘garbage’.

Odin turned back to the room. It was a disturbing sight.

“But surely he was too old to use most of this?” he asked, as his eye caught a set of fine gold chains with… was that an egg?

“Oh no, most of these he had made after his marriage to Loki, he’d worn his old things out and had to start again,” Musleen said. 

“Heimdall - ” Odin began.

“The rebels were a source of great trouble, your Majesty, and a source of great inspiration.” Musleen said. “My Father used to encourage new things all the time, in the bedroom, and with magic, he said it kept his mind sharp.”

Odin froze as the revelation sank in.

“Stay as long as you like… your Majesty.”

Musleen shut the door behind him.

Odin looked again at the room. It was filled with devices and costumes and things. Loki had worn this stuff? He didn’t even want to know where the egg thing went. Odin swallowed hard as he looked further. Surely Musleen couldn’t know for *sure* that his Father had used all of these?

Yes he did. The certainty had been written into every line of his carefully controlled expression.

 

There was something that had been given pride of place in the centre of the back wall. It was framed by various costumes of vulgarity.

Odin stepped closer.

It looked as though it had been blown apart and then welded back together, there were huge gaps where the metal had melted.

It was a chair. A chair with what looked like a chastity belt, except that it had a hole, and two…

Odin felt his stomach clench. No. He wouldn’t have, not to Loki. He couldn’t have… 

He did, and he hid it from Odin. Loki had been locked into that thing and – 

Odin gagged and bent over, vomiting violently as the image entered his mind and wouldn’t let go.

Black ink hit the floor and stained it, although Odin didn’t notice. He was too busy fighting the second wave that threatened to overwhelm him.

This was torture! This was an act of war! Why had Loki even put up with this?!

But he knew why, he knew and the knowledge tore at him.

The vow, Odin’s thrice sworn vow, his stupid determination that Loki not cause trouble.

This was all Odin’s fault.

He glanced up at the iron chair again and his eyes widened with horror. Ink was dripping out over the sides, pooling beneath it on the floor. It flowed thickly like blood.

Had Loki bled?

Odin cried out and fled the room, fighting panic as he tried to find his way back to his chambers.

Musleen stepped out of the shadows and raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t actually been sure that it would have any effect, it seemed that Odin was slightly less heartless than he’d thought.

“Burn it all, melt down the chair, get the forger who reassembled it to do it, I don’t want him thinking I take after that monster,” he said to Fosxyr, who was standing with him in the shadows.

“At once, your Grace,” Fosxyr said. “Will Loki be alright?”

Musleen turned to face him, allowing his true feeling to show on his face. “I don’t know, Fox,” he said, his expression lined with worry. “I truly hope so, but I just don’t know.”


	32. Thirty One Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crash and Burn

Thor took Loki back their grandparents' quarters. He didn't want to go to the ones assigned to him in case Odin was still around. The last thing Loki needed right now was more time with that man.

Loki was clinging to him like a man drowning. He was still breathing hard and stifling the occasional sob. The dam had finally burst and the ensuing flood had left devastation in its wake.

Thor sat down with him on the couch and tried to think of something to say. All the platitudes he could think of sounded so false in his head. Loki needed something greater than words, greater than a hug, something this huge could not be fixed easily.

Thor had to fall back on just holding him and hoping that somehow things would be alright.

"Loki," he murmured into his beloved's hair after some time had passed. "Loki, my love, please talk to me, tell me what I can do?"

Loki's hand just fisted more tightly into Thor's clothes. He was still in a state of shock.

Thor desperately wished that he could call someone, Mother, or their grandparents, but he didn't dare leave Loki's side. How as he to know that tonight of all nights would be when Loki finally faced the truth? How could he have known that it would be him alone left to sooth Loki's emotions?

He had no idea what he was doing, and the though terrified him.

_There was someone in the room._

Thor realised it just as the shadows moved and a servant with bright red hair approached them both in silence. Thor wondered if it was Lord Fallconyr's and Lord Eadgleyr's private servant. He opened his mouth to order the man away, to give Loki some privacy as he fell apart.

The servant ignored his warning look and, to Thor's astonishment, knelt in front of Loki and reached to tuck his hair back behind his ear.

"Your Grace, shall I fetch you some tea?" he asked in a gentle tone.

To Thor's surprise the question worked. Loki took a deep breath and looked up at the man.

"Fosxyr," he said in a voice thick with tears. "Fosxyr I'm broken."

His voice certainly was. As Loki dissolved into a new flood of tears, Fosxyr reached out and wrapped his arms around him, rubbing Loki's back in circles he wept.

"Your Grace, Loki, sweetheart, let it out, it's alright, you're safe here, it'll be alright," he said softly.

So this was Fosxyr, the servant who, according to Frigga, had taken care of Loki for most of his years in Vanaheim.

For some reason Thor thought he would have been taller.

At least he was having an effect of a kind. Loki was still clinging to Thor but his head was turned towards Fosxyr as he wept.

"It'll never be alright," Loki said through his tears. "I'll never be alright."

"Now you stop that right now," Fosxyr said, his tone still gentle. "You need time, and friends, and you need a lot of love," (this was said with a look shot at Thor) "and you need time to be yourself. You say you are broken, well now you can start to be whole again Loki. You can start to heal." 

Loki shook his head. He still hadn't let go of Thor, but he still wouldn't look at him either.

Fosxyr just kept rubbing his back in wide circles, waiting, although what for Thor had no idea.

After a few more minutes Loki gulped a couple of times and made an effort to stop crying. Thor sat still, wondering what to say that would not lead to him starting again.

"Would you like that tea now, your Grace?" Fosxyr asked.

Loki nodded awkwardly. All his movements were jerky and disjointed. He looked exhausted.

And little wonder, Thor realised, it was over two hours since they had left the Great Hall. Loki had been crying for most of that time.

Fosxyr rose and headed to the little drinks table in the corner of the room. Thor turned his attention back to Loki.

"Can... can I do anything?" he asked, trying to sound sure of himself and not terrified. 

Loki looked up at him with wide, childlike, eyes. His fist slowly unclenched and he pulled his hand away.

Thor didn't move. He wanted to pull Loki back to him, but he had a feeling that such an act would only make things worse.

Loki was still looking at him when Fosxyr returned with the tea.

"The finest relaxation tea in Vanaheim," he said, his tone gentle, but with a slight 'jolly' edge. "Drink up, your Grace, and I will fetch their Lordsirs."

Loki took the cup and drank without a word. Thor fought to keep a frown off his face, the Loki he knew would have at least smelled it, or something. This Loki was like a child, utterly helpless and far too trusting.

Perhaps Fosxyr had earned that trust? But he had not earned Thor's, not yet.

"Would you like to lie down?" Thor asked Loki gently.

Loki stared at nothing for a few long seconds, then he nodded.

Fosxyr helped him up on one side, Thor took the other, and they gently walked him to his bedroom.

Fosxyr took charge then, pulling out a nightrobe and helping Loki to undress. Loki sat still unless he was made to move. He reminded Thor disturbingly of a doll, something that could be posed and moved about at the whim of its owner. He still stared blankly into nothing.

Fosxyr tucked him in and smoothed down the bedclothes. "I'm going to fetch their Lordsirs now," he said to Loki. "Would you like your mother?"

Loki didn't respond for almost a minute, before his lips slowly parted and he said: "yes."

Fosxyr nodded. "I'll find her, your Grace, you just stay here with Prince Thor."

At the sound of Thor's name Loki stiffened up as though in fear. Thor tried hard not to feel hurt.

Fosxyr bowed to him before disappearing through a hidden passage in the wall. Thor stood awkwardly in the centre of the room as Loki stared at the ceiling.

This was terrible. This was a disaster. Loki was *broken*, something had given way inside and Thor had no idea how to fix it.

What if it couldn't be fixed?

The thought was cold and dark and terrifying. Thor tried desperately to put it out of his mind as he hovered uselessly beside Loki's bed.

 

****

 

Things were not well inside Loki's head. He was aware of the outside world in a dim kind of way. It was there, it was occasionally interacting with him, but he wasn't really feeling it anymore.

Inside, darkness absorbed him. He was broken, his mind had shattered under the strain of being married to the King and now it was in pieces.

He'd never even felt it happening. There had been no moment, no single event that could have tipped him off to the damage that had occurred.

He would never marry Thor. How could he? How could he even be allowed to *touch* Thor, insane as he was? He'd seen the Ink pour out of Odin's robes. He'd always felt its presence, but to actually see it? The insanity was only growing. 

Thor said that he still loved him, but even he couldn't be blind to the fact that they could no longer marry. Thor needed a proper queen.

Maybe if Loki went to a quiet hospital somewhere, Thor would visit him occasionally. That would be nice, wouldn't it? There was no need to fear the Ink anymore, even as it covered every inch of his skin. It wasn't real, it couldn't hurt anyone. It was all in Loki's head, his broken, damaged, head.

He'd been a fool. He'd actually thought that the Norns cared enough about his insignificant little life to target him? He was nothing. He was a speck. His life probably didn't have any effect on the universe at all. How arrogant he was, and how everyone must have been laughing at his foolishness all this time.

He should just go quietly to the hospital and not be any trouble to anyone. It was a wonder that they'd let him walk around with the sane people at all. They must have seen how damaged he was.

Of course he hadn't hurt anyone, so maybe instead of a hospital they'd let him stay in a house in the country, where he could be of no bother.

Perhaps he could stay in Vanaheim? With his grandparents? He'd stay out of the Properties Room, it was a wonder that they'd trusted him in there at all. He'd spend his day fixing fences, unless that would cause concern. Maybe the library then? He could read the books and keep them neat and dust-free. Some simple task like that would be surely be alright for him to do to fill his days with. 

His extra days, his extended days, he had been destined to die, that much *was* true, and Thor had stopped it. Thor had given him the gift of life.

Loki wondered if Thor regretted that now, given what his life was going to be.

"Loki?"

A voice, a well known voice, Thor's voice, so deep and comforting.

"Loki please?"

What a nice voice, well, someone else would have that nice voice all to themselves one day. Someone else would sit and watch as that voice echoed in their chambers, laughed at their jokes, called out to their children...

Tears began to trickle down the sides of Loki's face.

He'd gone away, made a dreadful deal to be with the one he loved, and instead he'd lost him forever. 

"Loki, I love you."

And one day he would love someone else. That was just good sense at this point. Who would want to love Loki? Who could love something so damaged?

"Loki, my baby."

A new voice, Mother.

"Loki, look at me."

A commanding voice, Grandfather.

"Did you give him something?"

Another voice, Grandmother. They were here, all here for him. Soon they would decide his fate, hospital or country home, it didn't matter, nothing mattered anymore now that Thor was lost to him.

"The relaxing tea, you Lordsir, he was distraught."

Fosxyr, kind Fosxyr, good Fosxyr, who tried so hard to keep Loki from breaking. What disappointment he must feel, knowing that Loki failed him.

"That stuff is strong, he'll be a bit out of it for a while."

"A bit? That was a fresh batch I brought with us, I'm surprised he's still awake."

"Loki? Baby? It's Mother, can you hear me?"

Frigga's face was in front of him. A moment ago it had been the ceiling. Loki noted this in a general way, but did not feel anything beyond that.

She was stroking his forehead, smoothing his eyes shut with every stroke. It was nice, and he let himself drift further away from the world. Perhaps if he floated far enough away he wouldn't come back? They'd be sad at first, but really, who needed a madman around, they were a burden, he was a burden. He should just drift...

Loki found his thoughts harder to hold onto, and a few minutes after Frigga started stroking his forehead, he was asleep.

 

****

 

Thor looked anxiously from one face to another. He had met his grandparents only once, and they had warned him about, if not this very scenario, then something similar. He'd disagreed, believing that Loki could withstand anything.

This was very clearly not true.

"What do I do?" Thor asked in a low voice, so as not to wake Loki. "I don't know what to do."

It was hard to make that admission. He wanted to be the one to save Loki, to pull him back from the brink, but such a feat was beyond him, perhaps it was beyond anyone.

It was that thought that scared him the most.

"It is highly likely that he will sleep the night through," Lord Fallconyr said. "That tea is strong, especially when fresh. I'd recommend that you stay here just in case though."

Lord Eadgleyr was nodding in agreement.

Thor shook his head, they didn't understand. "I'm happy to stay, I *want* to stay," he said, "but I don't know what to *do*. What do I say to him? I tried talking before and he ignored me, and that was before the tea."

"We're all staying Thor, don't worry," Frigga said, pulling him into a hug. He resisted the urge to cling to her the way he had as a child. "We'll all be here to deal with this together."

"Did you tell him that you loved him?" Lord Eadgleyr asked.

"Yes, I wasn't sure if it was right, I didn't want to put pressure on him, but I needed to say it, I needed it said, no matter what, I love him and I always will," Thor said.

"I think he needs to hear it as well, although tomorrow, when he is awake and, hopefully, a little more coherent, I think you need to explain to him the nature of your love." 

Thor nodded. "I will. I'll talk to him, I won't shy away from this."

"We know you won't, Thor," Frigga said with a sad smile. 

Thor looked back at the bed where Loki lay. He looked so vulnerable.

"I'd hold back the nine realms for him," he said.

"We know that too."

 

****

 

Musleen had reappeared at the coronation and was trying to look relaxed. Loki was with Thor, hopefully the best person to help him, and it was important for Musleen not to be absent during tonight's festivities.

Important because he was the third in line to the throne and the King's spymaster, a prolonged absence would cause gossip, and important because Daenceia did not deserve to be left alone with all the nobles, not when she was here because of him.

He needn't have worried, Sofftia had taken her under her wing and was deftly fending off the more cunning of the court.

Odin still had not returned, hopefully it was due to guilt and not embarrassment.

There was someone approaching from behind him on his right.

"Cousin, you look well," said Woalfen in his ear.

Musleen turned and faced the man. Tall, good looking if a little on the thin side, with well-groomed hair and an understated robe that nevertheless was made of *very* expensive fabric.

The man had not changed.

"Cousin," Musleen said politely. "I have not seen you in many years. How do you fare?"

"Very well, thank you. Have you met my wife, Ellumyr?" Woalfen asked.

There was a man standing behind him. Musleen had to resist raising an eyebrow.

Dark blond hair, dark blue eyes, tall with pleasant, almost boyish features. Musleen could have been looking into a mirror.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Musleen said.

The man bowed deeply. "It is an honour, your Grace," he said.

He looked about Musleen's age too, it was almost embarrassing. Hopefully they were very happy together, and had more in common than, well, the obvious.

"I was thinking that we might spend some more time here, now that Dorgen is the King," Woalfen said. "I'm afraid that your father was less than enthusiastic about myself and my brother."

"I cannot think why," Musleen said politely. "Especially as he had no trouble with Horrseen having a place at the Tower."

Woalfen leaned in closely as Ellumyr made himself scarce. "Between you and me, cousin, you do know that he is dead, don't you? Perhaps we might drop the word games?"

Musleen's mask didn't move so much as an inch. "What you say or not say is your own choice, cousin, but if I may be a little forward, a public setting less than a year after *any* man's death is not the most diplomatic place to remember him, regardless of ones feelings. Perhaps you may find that all are more comfortable having such discussions elsewhere."

Woalfen smiled. He looked genuinely amused. "You haven't changed, cousin," he said. "I've missed your intellect."

"And I've missed you falling on your bottom in the training ring," piped up Camtan from behind them.

Musleen allowed himself a *very* small smile at the appearance of his brother. Camtan was sunny, happy and always laughing. But you didn't grow up with a brother like Musleen without learning how to read a situation. Like the brightest of bright knights, he came cheerfully to the rescue. Musleen bowed swiftly to Woalfen, muttered something banal about seeing to the other guests and disappeared in a metaphorical cloud of smoke.

He arrived at Daenceia's side a moment later, smoothly sliding in beside her as she chatted to one of Sofftia's friends.

Said friend gave Musleen a tight smile, the kind that hid a guilty conscience, and hastily made her excuses.

"You scare people," Daenceia said to him.

"Good," he answered. "It'd be a lot harder to do my job if I didn't. She was guilty of something."

"Oh definitely, she kept glancing over my shoulder at someone, her husband, I believe. He makes his money in the jewellery trade, which has turned downward since the King's death, and yet he has not suffered a loss like the others. Business fraud, I suspect, or perhaps he's hiding money from a more traditional crime in his business papers as a cover." Daenceia said lightly as she apparently took in the room.

Musleen had to fight not to kiss her right there.

"Better not, they're having a hard time believing I exist at all at the moment," Daenceia said.

"You can tell what I'm thinking?" he asked, surprised.

"I'm learning to," she answered with a smile.


	33. Thirty Two Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decisions Made

Loki dreamed...

_He dreamed that he was dancing with Musleen, who kept stepping on his feet._

_"Sorry," Musleen muttered._

_"It's alright," Loki said._

_"Is it?" Musleen asked, "The feet represent hammers and the music is killing the guests."_

_Loki nodded seriously. It made sense, in that moment._

_"Where's Daenceia?" he asked suddenly._

_"You haven't met her yet," Musleen said._

_Loki realised that he was wearing his wedding robes. So was Musleen. He was marrying Musleen instead of the king._

_Oh. Alright then._

_The King was on his throne, he looked angry._

_"I think there's been a mistake," Loki said._

_Musleen nodded seriously. "He's angry, but there's no helping some people."_

_"I wish this had happened," Loki said suddenly. "I wish this had happened because I cannot go back, you're still alive."_

_Musleen nodded seriously as he listened._

_"But I can't go back now anyway, even though the King is dead," Loki said. "So it would have been better to marry you, at least then I would be whole, lost to Thor, but whole."_

_Musleen nodded. "We need to dance," he said._

_"We are dancing," Loki replied._

_"The other dance," Musleen said. "With movement and pain and sorrow, I'm sorry, I'll try not to step on your toes."_

_They were walking down a corridor, heading for the marriage chambers._

_"Oh," Loki said, "that dance."_

_He turned to look at Musleen but found himself face to face with Dorgen, who was scowling at him._

_"Go home Aesir," he muttered._

_Loki frowned. "We're friends," he reminded him._

_Dorgen suddenly smiled. "Of course, I forgot. Have some cake."_

_Loki was in the side room, he was wearing his nightshirt. Fosxyr handed him a glass._

_"Drink the cake and eat the wine," he said earnestly._

_Loki drank the cake, it was pleasant._

_He opened the door and walked out into the marriage chambers. Thor was standing next to the bed, watching._

_Loki frowned as he climbed in beside the King, who was grinning and rubbing his hands together. He wanted Musleen back, well, he *wanted* Thor, but he couldn't have Thor, so he'd take Musleen._

_But there was only the King._

_"No," Loki said._

_The King reached for him, the curtains were still pulled back, and Loki could see Thor watching as if in puzzlement._

_"No," Loki said again._

_The King grabbed his arm._

_Loki's frown became an angry scowl._

_"NO!" he shouted and backhanded the King across the face._

_The King bounced away as Loki woke from his sleep._

 

****

Loki stared at the ceiling. He'd struck the King. He'd *struck* him. Not in person, but in his dreams he'd showed up and Loki had *struck* him.

It felt good in a scary kind of way.

Then he remembered what had happened yesterday, with the Ink, with his curse that wasn't a curse.

For a long moment he just lay there, letting the world happen around him. Eventually he would have to get up, and when he got up he would have to face the truth that he was mad, and that mad men could not marry Crown Princes, no matter how much they loved them.

If he stayed here though, he could put off the moment.

He could hear stirring to his right. Nervously, he turned his head.

Thor was sitting on a chair by the wall, he was slumped to one side and sinking further. He was going to fall in a minute.

Loki got up and moved to Thor's side, catching him as he fell.

Thor's eyes shot open, finding Loki's and piercing them with crystal-clear blue.

"Loki," he breathed, reaching up to take Loki's arms in his. "H-how are you feeling?"

Loki didn't know. He really didn't have words to describe it. Less panicked than yesterday, but perhaps more sad, more resigned to his fate. He wanted very badly to kiss Thor, to have one last moment of perfection, but that would just give him the wrong idea.

"I'm... a little better," Loki lied. "Did you stay here all night?"

"I did, our Grandparents are in their bed and Mother is in the next room, sleeping on the couch." Thor said.

Loki flushed with guilt. He had caused all of this trouble.

"She shouldn't have done that," he said, glancing at the doorway to the next room.

"I don't think she wanted to sleep in her bed," Thor said softly. 

Odin. He returned to Loki's thoughts, bringing with him the fear of the Ink all over again.

'It's in your head,' Loki thought to himself. 'You hallucinated it very clearly but it's all in your head.'

So why had Odin accused him of causing it?

Loki frowned in confusion, oblivious to Thor's worried stare.

Odin *had* accused him of causing it, which meant Odin could see it, which meant the Ink was real, but it hadn't been caused by the Norns, or the old King. There was no way he could have summoned a power greater than Loki's last attempt at cleansing.

What was it? Where had it come from?

Was Loki still insane?

Oh yes, he shouldn't even doubt such things, he was clearly broken into pieces, as everyone had been trying to tell him from the moment the old King died.

Thor was still watching him.

"Shall we have breakfast?" he asked, "Or tea?"

"You don't drink tea," Loki said.

"But you do, and Grandfather grows it, I should at least try it, don't you think?" Thor said. 

There was still a hesitancy to his words, as though he was carefully feeling his way forward while trying to show that he *wasn't* carefully feeling his way forwards.

"Besides," he said, still watching Loki closely. "I should get used to it if I'm to stay in Vanaheim."

What?

Loki turned to look at Thor with wide eyes. 

"Stay?" he asked hesitantly.

Thor nodded. "I wish to meet my cousins, and Loki, I would, very much, that is, I would like... I would like to stay with you. I know you are having troubles and I want to help you through them, if I can. I love you, dearly, as a lover, as a brother, as a friend. Please Loki, I do not wish to pressure you, I know you have been through something horrific-"

Thor saw it all. The memory returned like a slap to the face. Thor saw *everything* when he went to the Norns. Everything.

Loki took a step back.

"You can't stay," he blurted out, backing away further.

How could he even look Thor in the face? How could Thor look at *him*?

Thor stayed where he was, but his face remained calm and his eyes were steady.

"I'm going to visit our grandparents Loki," he said in a quiet, yet steady voice. "I hope that you will join me."

How could Loki dare explain? How could he explain that Lord Fallconyr's estates were *his* place. A place where Thor could be a wonderful dream, far away but *safe* because of that? How could he explain the fear that came with knowing that the real life Thor would be walking and talking somewhere nearby? That, as long as he stayed away, Loki could convince himself that one day things would be alright?

But they wouldn't be, would they? He was insane. He knew it now. Things would never be alright, and Thor should get to know his cousins.

Loki pulled on the cord by the door and was relieved when Fosxyr appeared.

"Good morning, your Grace, your Grace," he said.

"Can we have some breakfast please Fosxyr?" Loki asked, not taking his eyes off Thor. "Thor would like to try the tea."

 

****

 

Their mother and grandparents joined them for breakfast. Loki sat quietly at the table, all the fight had gone out of him, and nibbled only a little at the food on offer.

Thor explained to their grandparents that he had permission to visit them from the new King Dorgen, and that he hoped that he was welcome to stay.

"Of course you are, Thor dear, we are travelling back later today, in fact, will you come with us?" Lord Eadgleyr asked.

Thor nodded. "I'd like that," he said.

"You and Haewkyr can get to know each other better," Lord Fallconyr said, "I saw you speak briefly at the feast."

Thor nodded easily. "I'd like that too," he said.

"Haewkyr likes riding," Loki said, a little woodenly. "You should go out and help him with the fences."

Thor nodded. "If he'll have me," he said.

Loki wanted to throw something at him. He was invading Loki's *territory*, and when he spoke to the others he was normal, but Loki could *hear* the patronising tone in his voice when he spoke to Loki. It was practically minute but definitely there, even if he was the only one who could hear it.

Instead Loki held his temper. He might be mad, but there was no sense making it worse. If he wasn't violent then he might be able to stay with his grandparents after Thor left.

 

****

 

After breakfast Thor and Frigga both went back to their chambers. Thor to grab his things, Frigga to see her husband.

"I wish I was coming with you," she said.

"Do so," Thor said at once.

Frigga shook her head. "I must stay in Asgard, at least for now. The realms are already noticing Loki's behaviour, they speak to themselves of our troubles. I must help present a united front to quell the rumours."

"To Hel with the rumours," Thor said angrily, "and to Hel with Odin."

"No Thor, this is politics, you do not wish Asgard to suffer. For now we must maintain appearances for the sake of peace, although I dearly wish I did not have to." Frigga said.

Thor scowled but said nothing more. She was right. There were always people willing to use weakness to try and topple thrones, and the throne of Asgard was very high indeed. 

"I will look after him," Thor said instead.

"I know you will, I will write to you both." Frigga said, looking worried.

 

****

 

Meanwhile, Loki was pleading with his grandparents.

"Please don't let him come and stay. Please!" he begged.

"He's our grandchild as much as you, he has a right to see his cousins," Lord Fallconyr said.

"But I can't be near him, I can't, the sight of him hurts so much!" Loki said.

"And why is that?" Lord Fallconyr asked.

Loki pinched his lips together. He didn't want to say it.

Lord Fallconyr just waited.

And waited.

And waited.

"I can't be with him if I'm mad," Loki said at last, "and I am mad, grandfather, Thor told me last night that the Norns were *pleased* that I had new life. They haven't cursed me, they aren't trying to get me, the Ink..."

He trailed off as tears began to fall down his cheeks.

"...the Ink is all in my mind, at least, I think so," he finished awkwardly. "I don't know anymore. I'm all mixed up! But if I'm this mixed up then I can't have Thor, and if I can't have Thor then I don't even want to see him. I don't want to spend days and days looking at something I cannot have."

Lord Fallconyr was watching him with a shrewd expression.

"I will not ban my grandson," he said at last, holding a hand up quickly to stop Loki from speaking. "But I strongly advise you to see the healer as soon as we get back. I do not believe for a second that you are mad, Loki. I think you are completely sane. Certainly I believe that you would have to be a madman to undergo all that you went through and not show a single sign of strain."

"How would you know? You don't know what it was like," Loki challenged, his voice rising.

Lord Fallconyr raised a cautionary eyebrow. "True," he said slowly. "But-"

"No! No 'buts'. You don't know! You didn't have to go through it! *I* did! He broke me! He broke me! He broke... he broke me." Loki finished, whispering.

Lord Fallconyr took a deep breath, deliberately not letting his eyes flicker to Fosxyr, who stood by the servant’s door. "You are right Loki, I do not know what you went through, not truly, but I still will not ban Thor. You may spend all your time in the Properties Room if you must, only those who are qualified may set foot in there, but I will not ban him from the premises."

Loki sat down in the nearest chair and tried not to cry. It was a compromise of sorts, he supposed. Perhaps he could go riding as well, long rides every day. There would be ways to avoid Thor, at least until the pain in his chest that he felt every time he saw him went away.

Five hours later, Lord Fallconyr's coach rattled out of the Palace and down the main street to the Eastern Gate. Haewkyr and Thor sat awkwardly together on one seat, with Loki and their grandparents sitting three-abreast on the other.

 

****

 

In the palace, Musleen blinked himself awake. He had been up until sunrise along with most of the court, as Vanir tradition dictated. Now he blearily wiped his hand across his eyes. Last night. Something important had happened last night. What was...?

Oh yes. That.

He turned and looked at Daenceia sleeping beside him. 

They hadn't meant to, but she'd looked so lovely after the last of the dancing, with her face flushed and her hair just starting to fall out of its style. They'd come back here to have a last glass of wine before he saw her home.

So much for that plan.

Musleen debated about waking her, but decided against it. He rose instead and slipped silently out to his bathroom. A quick shower and a change of clothes later and he was a man refreshed.

The first of yesterday’s reports were waiting for him on his desk. He sat down and quickly scanned through the keywords on the front pages.

Nothing much of note. Dorgen was more popular with the nobles than their father, and the commoners were practicing the good old 'wait and see' method of judgement. 

Musleen put the reports back and went to leave.

There was another folder in his desk. A thin one. He opened it and read through quickly. 

Oh yes, he'd asked someone to pull out the file on Woalfen and his brother, Formalen. Both had stayed far away from the Palace during the old King's reign. Woalfen, because of his indiscretions regarding Musleen, and Formalen for his excessive display of wealth, obtained by being exceedingly good at the weapons trade. Woalfen had responded by retreating to his estate in the far south east, and Formalen had gone even further and moved to Asgard. Granted, that was where most of his business was conducted, and technically he only had a 'business' house there and retained his Vanir citizenship, but he hadn't been back in centuries.

Until now, he'd been decked in more jewels than Musleen had cared to count. A ten minute conversation with him last night had yielded only that he was happy in Asgard, but wished to visit Vanaheim again now that things were 'calmer'.

Musleen put the file down. Woalfen was annoying, but not particularly threatening. Formalen had looked delighted to be acknowledged by his cousins, and had magnanimously, if somewhat undiplomatically, forgiven them for not acknowledging him prior to their father's death.

Hopefully Woalfen would return to his lands soon, and Formalen was certainly welcome to come and go as he pleased, *his* only crime was excessive wealth, which the old King had almost considered a character flaw in a noble.

There was a noise from the other room. Musleen had not had much time for lovers in the past, but still some ancient instinct from the depths of his brain told him that leaving a young woman with whom you had been intimate to wake up alone was a bad idea.

He crossed to the door and stepped inside, wishing for the millionth time that he did not blush like a sunset when nervous.

Daenceia heard the door and looked around. A flush of what he dearly hoped was pleasure crept across her cheeks.

"Good morning," he said.

"Good morning," she responded, looking half mischievous and half embarrassed.

He lurked awkwardly by the door for a moment as she sat up and looked around.

"You haven't seen my dress by any chance have you?" she asked.

Musleen's face went tomato red.

"I think it's in the living room," he muttered, as memory hit him. "I'll fetch it."

He practically ran to the living room, trying to keep himself from groaning with embarrassment. This was just like their first dinner together, only a thousand times worse. 

But, like with the dinner, did he want to do it again?

Why yes, yes he did.

Musleen grabbed the dress from where it had been discarded and headed back to the bedroom. This time though he was struggling to keep the grin off his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case anyone was wondering why we keep checking in on Musleen and Daenceia, there are a few reasons.
> 
> 1) Loki and Thor's story is angst-filled and not going to get better any time soon. Musleen and Daenceia are a break from that so that I don't make you all depressed for chapter upon chapter.  
> 2) Plot is happening that will eventually affect our boys. It's happening slowly, but it will happen.


	34. Thirty Three Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confessions

If Loki were not already insane, then three days in a carriage with Thor was almost enough to drive him mad. His grandparents kept the conversation going, filling Thor in on his cousins and the castle and its surrounds. Thor was polite and asked them questions, but Loki could tell that his mind wasn’t really on them, even after so long apart Loki still knew when Thor was distracted.

Of course this particular time did not take much effort, anyone who knew what he and Thor had been through in the last few days would have guessed the same.

Loki stayed silent, unless prompted to speak, he had nothing say. Scream, yes, cry, yes, but say? Speak as though calm and sensible? No. He had nothing like that.

He wondered if this was another symptom of his madness. Would he even be able to tell? Could mad people tell when they were being mad?

He had questions. Important questions, but he didn’t dare ask them in front of Thor.

He’d ask the healer as soon as they arrived back. He needed to know how damaged he was, enough to be seen in public? Possibly not, he had been allowed to attend the coronation, but possibly that had been some kind of test, in which case he’d failed terribly by losing control of himself.

Control was key. He could not let them see his madness, if he could control it then he would be able to move about without an escort, perhaps even go travelling. He’d wanted to go travelling for such a long time now. Well, as long as he didn’t let the mask slip, then perhaps he could convince them-

-wait, mask? Like all those years ago? 

Well no, a mask under his control.

So, more like when he was with the King then?

No! Nothing like that! He was just…

…yes? Just what? Planning to hide who you really are and what you really think? How long were you planning to do that exactly?

…Um

Yes?

Not forever, just until…

You don’t have an answer, do you? You are literally thinking both sides of an argument, back and forth like two halves of a whole.

I do that sometimes, everyone does!

Are you sure? Maybe you were always a little prone to madness, maybe that’s why Father wanted you out of the way.

Loki scowled in his seat.

“Loki dear, what’s the matter?” Lord Eadgleyr asked, noticing his sour expression.

“Nothing,” Loki said quickly. “I just wanted to ride, but it’s too late in the day.”

Lord Eadgleyr raised an eyebrow at his blatant lie but did not challenge it.

“We’ll be arriving at the castle tomorrow, you can ride all the way there if you want to,” he said.

Loki nodded and looked out of the window. They still trusted him to ride on his own? Or would they be asking Haewkyr to join him? Did it really matter? He was so tired of wondering what he was and was not capable of.

Loki shut his eyes and put his head back. They’d be arriving at the Inn soon, then he could rest.

Opposite where he sat, Thor was watching him carefully. He only ever watched Loki when Loki wasn’t looking, as he didn’t want to upset him. Loki was in a terrible way, and Thor could think of nothing to help him, nothing except being there, being there and hoping.

It didn’t feel like enough.

 

**** 

Dorgen sat with his advisors and worked his way through the necessaries of running a kingdom. 

The harvests were expected to be good this year, which was a blessing. Approximately half their food went to feeding Asgard. Granted, they were paid for it in a variety of ways, but there had been times when the harvest was low and prices, along with tensions, had risen. It was better when there was an abundance, even though it meant that the prices were lower.

There was also the proposed expansion of Vanaheim’s borders. The military was not yet ready to go ahead, although it was only a matter of time. Dorgen had to select the best area to explore first, one that had the greatest crop value, so as to entice the farmers and settlers to leave their current villages and make new starts.

The eastern border was closest, and so had the advantage of quick access to the capital and help, should it be needed. It was also very good land for growing, Lord Fallconyr made a fortune every year from his teas and another one from his other crops. Once the trees were cleared further out there should be good growing land beneath them.

Of course there were a few problems with that area. Lord Fallconyr’s old family settlement was on the border, technically his lands extended through there, or at least they had before the war. By rights he could and probably would claim them back immediately after the barrier came down. Dorgen’s proposed settlement would have to be further out than it first appeared, and there were no roads out that far, the ones that had been there were overgrown and in complete disrepair. Dorgen would have to either give Lord Fallconyr a lot of money for the rights to use his private roads for public travel, or lay a public road around the edge of the lands to the far side.

Decisions, decisions.

There was a knock on the door and Camtan entered without waiting for Dorgen to call out.

“I’ve got a proposition for you, brother,” he said, holding out an old map.

“Oh?” Dorgen asked, curious.

“Yes, I heard on the wind that Sir Haewkyr and our dear mother-Loki took a quick trip to the other side of the barrier many years ago. Approximately here,” he pointed to a place on the map. 

“You heard on the wind?” Dorgen asked.

Camtan nodded.

“In other words, Musleen told you,” Dorgen said.

Camtan nodded again. “He’s escorting his girlfriend home, so I told him I’d come and talk to you about our idea.”

Dorgen scanned the map. It was a map of the eastern end of the realm, dating back before the war. Dorgen’s eyebrows raised as he scanned it. The barrier appeared to have cut Lord Fallconyr’s estates in half. 

“Why was it placed there in the first place?” Dorgen asked, mostly to himself.

“Because King Bor was rather upset at Lord Fallconyr’s complete dismissal of his son as a good husband,” Camtan said with a cheery grin. “The barrier diverts inward rather a lot just over his lands.”

“That’s… petty,” Dorgen said. “And a slap in the face to Vanir nobility. I assume that Father did not stand up for him.”

“You assume correctly, brother, the barrier has not changed in size or shape since it went up,” Camtan said. “Musleen has been studying it, well, the Lady Daenceia has been studying it upon his request, what with him having no magic, and *she* says it can be breached on this side, if you know what you are doing, and Loki certainly falls into that category. Add to that the reports that he and Sir Haewkyr actually made it across and we have the beginnings of a plan.”

“That plan being?” Dorgen asked. Camtan had a look in his eye that used to mean he was about to get into trouble.

“We send out small explorer parties in likely areas to determine the best place for expansion. Get everything ready in the nearby area before the barrier comes down, that way you won’t have to guess *or* waste your time exploring before the nobles all strike out alone. You know they will brother, and there are still the old claims-laws in place. If they get to an unclaimed place first then they can claim it for one of their children, you’ll have chaos on your hands trying to get the farmers into the right areas. Money will come pouring out of here into the wrong coffers.”

“I am guessing, what with your enthusiasm for this project, that you would like to be a part of the explorer party?” Dorgen asked.

Camtan looked uncomfortable for the first time since walking in. “Well, no, not really. I have a family that will be bigger before the year is out, I can’t go. But Musleen would like to, and Octtir has also expressed an interest.”

“You do want to go, don’t you?” Dorgen asked again, although it wasn’t really a question.

Camtan bit his lip. “yes,” he admitted, “but I can’t, and I accept that, let me help plan it though brother, let me dream.”

“Can you not wait until the baby is born and go then?” Doregn asked. “Sofftia was born in the High Mountains, she used to go rock climbing the way other ladies would take a stroll, surely she would want to go?”

Camtan glanced at the door, although it was closed. Dorgen frowned, his happy, sunny brother suddenly did not look so happy.

“She’s changed recently,” Camtan admitted. “Since Father’s death actually. She wants to go back to her father’s home, and I do to, at least, for a while.”

“She wants to stay there,” Dorgen said. “I thought you did too?”

“It was all I dreamed about at night, sometimes,” Camtan said. “It kept me going. But… he’s gone now. He’s *dead*, and I have a mother, which I am still marvelling over. The realm is finally under your control and things are happening that I want to be a part of. She wants to go and I want to stay, but I promised her, brother, and I will keep my promise.”

Dorgen frowned. “I did not realise you two were at odds,” he said.

“It’s not serious,” Camtan said quickly. “I mean, we still love each other, so don’t worry about that, we just want two things that are completely opposite to one another. It’s difficult, but we’ll get through it.”

“I understand you are still planning an expedition down the Old Road?” Dorgen asked.

“A year after the baby is born, yes. But we leave from her father’s home, and return there afterwards, it’s not the same,” Camtan said.

“You do realise that if the baby is born without royal witnesses-“ Dorgen began.

“Yes I know, it will not be in the line of succession, yet something else to factor in,” Camtan said. “But you have two sons, and Musleen is very capable, frankly it’s very unlikely he’ll ever be called upon.”

“Still,” Dorgen said, “He’d be the first royal baby in a thousand years not to be in the line of succession, even Horrseen’s two daughters were witnessed, just in case.”

Camtan sighed. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance of getting Musleen wedded, bedded and then sending him, Mulmyr and Daenceia up to see us when the time comes?” he asked.

Dorgen chuckled. “Musleen’ll wed in his own time, brother, not yours,” he said. “But perhaps a royal visit might be in order for the birth, I’m sure I can round up enough royals to accompany me.”

Camtan looked a little relieved, and Dorgen felt moved to say: “Brother, don’t worry. There is a lot to do and there will never be enough time to do it. Go and see the only the man you have ever called ‘father’ voluntarily, I think you’ll find when you are up there you will soon forget about the goings on down here, and, if not, write to me and tell me you ‘still haven’t seen a snow fox’. I will find a reason to call you back here.”

Camtan looked guilty and grateful at the same time.

“You’re probably right, brother, perhaps I am just being silly.”

Dorgen shook his head. “It’s not silly to want adventure, how do you think I feel, here in my lovely palace? I can’t go anywhere without the whole court acting as an escort from now on. It’s never wrong to crave freedom, but I think you’ll find that there are greater rewards waiting for you in the High Mountains. In the meantime, I shall examine this plan you and Musleen have put together. I think it is brilliant, although with Musleen’s involvement that is not unexpected.”

“Hey!” Camtan exclaimed in mock outrage.

“We’ll need strong mages though, to open doorways in the barrier,” Dorgen continued, trying to fight his grin. Getting a rise out of his brothers had always been fun.

“The Tower has a lot of strong mages, I’m sure there are others that can do what Loki has done. We just need to find them,” Camtan said, rising from his seat.

Dorgen nodded. “We will.”

“Oh, one more thing, not related to the barrier, just a piece of gossip I heard last night. Lord Kinndyr’s wife has passed away. The rumour said that she killed herself in her hospital room. He’s still in the city, although believed to be planning to return to his lands for the funeral. I know you two are friends.”

“Yes, we are,” Dorgen said. “We shared a sword-master in the training ring when we were youths. He’s had a hard life that man. Do you know where he’s staying?”

“Musleen will, I’ll ask his guards to tell you,” Camtan said.

Dorgen nodded. “I’ll visit if I can; I’ve not been able to speak to him for a long time.”

 

****

 

Loki disappeared to his room as soon as they arrived at Lord Fallconyr’s castle. Thor was already bogged down by his cousins, most of whom were desperate to see the Crown Prince of Asgard. It would only be a matter of time before one of them asked him to display his lightning powers and to take them for flights.

Good. It meant that Loki could be alone.

He caught sight of himself in the mirror. Oh yes, he was supposed to tell himself that he was worthy of love.

Hah.

Loki tried to face the mirror, but found his eyes kept shifting away.

“I… I love… I love m…” he struggled to say, tears building in his eyes. “I love my… myself… and I… I’m worthy… worthy of… IlovemyselfandI’mworthyoflove.”

There, he’d muttered it at least. He didn’t believe it though. The face in the mirror was a horrible one, all red eyes and pale cheeks. He couldn’t stand to look at it, much less declare it to be worthy.

There was a knock on the door. 

Loki sighed and slouched his way to the door. He pulled it open to see Lord Fallconyr standing beyond the threshold.

“I know the days of travel have been difficult for you Loki,” he said, stepping inside. “But I hope that you will still be joining me in the Properties Room and not shutting yourself away up here.”

Loki looked at him in confusion. “How can you say that?” he said, “I can’t be trusted with such delicate work! I’m far too unstable.”

Lord Falconyr’s eyes narrowed. “You stop that right now, my boy. You are _not_ unstable, you are _not_ insane! You have gone through something horrific and, yes, have suffered mental strain as a result, but that is not unexpected. Don’t you dare shut yourself out of the world because of that monster. You will see the healer tomorrow and you _will_ help me in the Properties Room. I won’t make you spend time with Thor but I will make you live. No excuses young man, none.”

Loki pressed his lips together; he was struggling not to cry.

“You don’t understand how bad I am,” he said softly. “I saw the Ink. I *saw* it, spilling out from under Father’s robes. It was thick and black and sinister. I’m broken, Grandfather, I _am_ mad. I wish I wasn’t, but how can you…?”

Loki trailed off at the look on his Grandfather’s face. The man looked guilty, really, _really_ guilty.

“What did you do?” Loki asked.

“Ah, well, I wasn’t entirely certain of the form it would take, otherwise I assure you, Loki that I would have warned you. I… cursed Odin, back at the King’s funeral. I cursed him to feel what you felt until he, sincerely and in his heart, apologised for what he put you through. I’m so sorry, my boy, you were never meant to experience any of it.”

Lord Fallconyr truly looked anguished at causing Loki pain. His face seemed older and more lined.

“So there is a curse?” Loki said.

Lord Fallconyr nodded.

“But it’s not on me?”

Lord Fallconyr shook his head.

“The Ink I feel is in my head, but it’s also physically coming to life and stalking my Father?”

Nod.

“And it won’t go away until he regrets sending me to marry the King?”

Shake.

“I won’t come after me?”

Emphatic shake.

“And it won’t hurt anyone else?”

“No one, Loki, no one but your father, and he’s causing his own pain,” Lord Fallconyr said.

“You have a mean streak,” Loki commented.

Lord Fallconyr was still looking at him warily, not certain if he’d been forgiven. “At times, I do not encourage you to follow my example, of course,” he said. “And it will only strike him when he feels himself to be in a private place, I do not wish to cause a diplomatic incident, after all.”

Loki nodded.

“I understand,” he said, sitting down. “I’m not entirely certain that I want it removed,” he added, glancing up at his grandfather.

“I’m not entirely certain that I can remove it without help anyway,” Lord Fallconyr said, sitting down opposite him. “I had help to cast it in the first place, my magic is nature magic, after all.”

“Who helped you?” Loki asked.

Lord Fallconyr shook his head gently. “I’ll not betray confidences,” he said, “but someone who cares for you very much.”

Loki nodded; a mystery then. Despite himself, he felt a slight thrill of delight at the thought of Odin facing the same struggle that he was. Not to mention the relief of knowing that his mind may not have been as broken as he’d first thought.

“I will go and see the healer tomorrow,” Loki said. “I want to get better, even… even if I can’t ever be well enough to be with Thor, I can at least be well enough to have a life here.”

Lord Fallconyr nodded. “I’m glad to hear it, Loki, I do think that you’ll find you are stronger than you realise, and I am so glad to see you taking the first steps.”


	35. Thirty Four Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Illusion of Control

Loki had his first meeting with Sharewdia the next day. To say it had not been pleasant was an understatement. He had been sullen, he knew, and far more guarded than he should have been. 

To tell the truth, he was embarrassed. He’d been so *insistent* that he was cursed, so *dismissive* of her gentle suggestions that he might be suffering from strain. To go back and admit that she had been right all along was painful.

He did it though. It took him far too long, but he did it. Then he’d cried. He cried a lot these days, and he was sick of it. He was angry with himself, angry with Odin, angry with Thor, although at the same time he acknowledged that Thor didn’t deserve it. He was just angry.

He spent the next few days in the Properties Room with Lord Fallconyr and Joeyia, who was a hard, if quiet, worker.

Lord Fallconyr appeared to have no problem with Loki handling the more dangerous substances, nor did he try to restrict Loki’s movements in any way. It left Loki with an odd mixture of nerves and hope. Perhaps he was not so bad after all? Certainly he had no great desire to harm anyone, and he was very careful with the different herbs and mixtures available.

Lord Fallconyr even left the room once, on a day when Joeyia was busy in the vast storerooms beneath the castle. Loki was alone for fifteen whole minutes.

He was trusted. It was nice to be so.

Of course there was still the problem of Thor. Loki loved Thor. Loved him like nothing else in the Nine Realms. His heart still gave a little flutter when Thor was near. It hurt to be so close to him and yet be unable to be closer still.

Loki tried hard to resign himself to the fact that Thor was beyond him now. It didn’t help that Thor obviously still felt differently.

He’d learn. Time would show him that Loki was no longer suitable.

In the meantime there was work to be done, potions to mix and fences to check and mend. The lands of Lord Fallconyr were vast, and maintained through constant care and vigilance. Loki allowed himself to settle back into the routine he’d been in before the coronation.

****

Thor was having trouble. It was not his cousins, who were all very welcoming. It was not the work, which he did willingly and without complaint. 

It was Loki. It was always Loki. Loki was right here, and yet almost a ghost to him. Loki managed to eat early, be gone riding before Thor could spot him, be hard at work in the Properties Room, a place Thor was not allowed due to the sensitive nature of the materials within. Loki was always one step away from him.

For now, Thor burned off his frustration in the castle’s training yard. He had made good friends with Cleawyr and Tailonyr, Haewkyr’s older brothers. They were both tall, although not as tall as Thor, and had the more typical slender body shape of the Vanir. They were very good at sparing as well, both separately and as a team.

Thor won three out of every four matches though, so they gave him some challenge.

“Do you think Loki plans to stay here?” Cleawyr asked as they warmed up.

Thor frowned. “I hope not, but I do not yet know what his long term plans may be. I would like him to return to Asgard, but I fear that may not be possible for many years.”

“I heard that King Odin had banished him,” Tailonyr added.

Thor shook his head. “Loki has not been banished, but things were not as well as I had hoped when he returned. As much as I wish he would return, my greater wish is that he finds happiness. If that is here in Vanaheim then so be it.”

It hurt to say the words though.

Cleawyr nodded. “Haewkyr’s taken him under his wing, he’ll be taken care of here at least.”

“Your brother is not much like the rest of you,” Thor commented as they lined up to spar.

“He takes after mother’s side of the family. You were introduced to our mother when you arrived,” Cleawlyr said. “Although there are a lot of us, so perhaps you do not remember.”

But Thor’s memory served him well. There had been a woman standing beside Sir Owelyr…

“Lady Spairrowia,” Thor said. 

“That’s right, she helps Father run the castle when our grandparents are away. She’s Aesir, and Haewkyr has always been more like her family in build,” Cleawlyr said.

“I know he grew out of your hand-me-downs before I did,” Tailonyr commented, causing Cleawlyr and Thor both to smile. “Four hundred years behind me he was and a full head taller by the time he could pick up a sword.”

The sparring began, and for a time there was no talking as the three men tried to best one another.

Thor managed to dump Cleawlyr on his bottom but was ‘impaled’ by Tailonyr before he could recover from issuing the blow.

“I win,” Tailonyr said cheerfully. 

Thor laughed. His cousins were good company.

“I was wondering,” he said, “whether you would be willing to help me speak to Loki. I know he had been through a lot, and I don’t *want* to pressure him, but I need him to know that I am here for him. We used to be everything to one another, there was nothing he couldn’t tell me, now…”

“It was the King,” Tailonyr said quietly. “We all saw it, we all hated it, but no one dared speak out. Haewkyr had to be physically held back once, did you know? He would have gotten himself killed were it not for Spaottyen, Ralvenyr and Faliren jumping on his back.”

“What had the King done?” Thor asked, before quickly holding up a hand. “On, second thought, don’t tell me, I’ve seen enough to know it had to be bad and now that the man is dead, there is nothing I can do to him anyway.”

Cleawlyr nodded. “Wise thoughts, cousin,” he said.

Thor took up a defensive stance as the other two did likewise. “Do you think you could help me talk to him? Just once?” he asked.

Cleawlyr shrugged. “I’ll speak to Haewkyr and see how Loki is doing, if he thinks it’s a good idea, then I’m sure we can find a way to help.”

Thor gave a tight smile in thanks. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than nothing. He did wish that Haewkyr did not have to be involved though. It was great that Loki had made a good friend here, but why did it have to be someone so… tall? And fair? And well-built? And who looked just like Thor himself? Why could Loki spend hours with Haewkyr and none at all with him?

He tried hard not to feel hurt, Loki was suffering, he was struggling to cope with all that had happened to him, the last thing he needed was Thor to start acting jealous.

It was hard though. Very hard.

Through the gateway, Thor saw Haewkyr come riding into the yard and dismount with easy grace.

*Really* hard.

****

Loki sat and tried not to squirm in his seat. His last meeting with Sharewdia had been full of tears, and he did not want to repeat the performance.

“How do you feel today, Loki?” she asked him.

Loki resisted the urge to shrug.

“I feel… odd,” he said instead.

“Odd how?” she asked.

“Floaty.”

“Floaty?”

“Yes, not lightheaded or anything like that. I feel like I’m floating above things that should be important to me, but I can’t reach them. Sometimes I don’t want to.”

“What things?” she asked.

Loki sighed. He’d know that she would ask, it was her job, and why would he bring it up if he didn’t want to talk about it? But he still felt reluctant to speak.

Sharewdia just waited patiently.

“The future,” he said at last. “I feel as though I should care about the future, but I also feel as though it’s out of my reach, so I don’t care, because it’ll never happen.”

“You feel disconnected to the world?” she enquired.

Loki nodded. “Like I’m killing time, waiting for something to happen to me.”

“Do you want something to happen to you?”

Loki scowled. “No,” he said, anger colouring his tone. “I want to do the happening.”

“You want control over your life?”

“Yes.”

“Your movements have been free for some time now, do you still feel held back?”

Loki shifted in his seat and played with his hands. “Maybe,” he admitted. “I went home, and I could have done anything, anything I wanted. Hunting, travelling, a quest, anything! But instead I came here. It’s not that here is bad, I just…”

“You sought out the familiar,” she said. “Loki, do you feel as though your movements are still being controlled by someone else?”

Loki opened his mouth to say no but stopped. “Sort of,” he said instead.

“What do you mean?”

“I still feel as though, if I do something he wouldn’t approve of, the King will punish me. He’s dead, I know he’s dead, but I have this nagging feeling that just won’t go away.”

“You spent over two hundred and fifty years living in a terribly constrictive environment, it is not surprising that, less than a year after it ended, you still feel bound in some way.”

“I just hate the fact that I feel worse now than I did when he was alive.”

“It’s normal to feel that way. Before, when he was around, you did not have the luxury of feeling much at all that he did not approve of, did you?”

“No,” Loki admitted. “I always had to be happy.”

“Then it is hardly surprising that, away from him at last, your true feelings are finally able to be acknowledged. I want you to write me a list of things you would like to do, Loki, goals that belong to you and no one else. We will discuss them when you come back.”

Loki nodded slowly. “I want to travel the Nine Realms, well, some of them,” he said. 

“Good, write down where, and why. You feel as though your life is still at the whim of another but it is not, we will work on reconnecting you to the world and setting your own goals. I will see you in three days, unless you feel you need me sooner.”

“Thank you,” Loki said, and for the first time he meant it.

 

****

 

Haewkyr was waiting for Loki when he returned from his meeting with Sharewdia.

“Thor wants to talk to you,” he said, by way of an opening.

Loki’s lips pinched together. “I can’t do that,” he said.

“Not even for a brief chat?” Haewkyr asked as Loki grabbed his riding things; they were planning to head south today and check on the newly planted crops. “I like the man, he’s an honest man, he’ll make a bloody good King one day too.”

“He will make a good King, but I cannot be his queen, not after what’s happened to me, but he doesn’t understand. I can’t marry him, so why make it harder by continuing to see him? He should go and leave me,” Loki said.

“Ah, well, men in love can be rather stupid,” Haewkyr said, shooting a pointed look at Loki that Loki completely missed.

“He’ll get over it faster if he leaves,” Loki said.

Haewkyr rolled his eyes behind Loki’s back.

“I was talking about *you*, knucklehead,” he said.

“Me?!” Loki said, whirling around.

“Yes *you*, you love him so much that you’ve decided his entire future for him _without consulting him._ At the very least I feel he should be allowed to contribute his thoughts on your decision.”

Loki bit his lip. “I hadn’t thought of it like that,” he admitted.

“Talking to him is not going to hurt you, tell him your reasons for why you want him gone at least. He’s being bloody patient, which is great… for you, but I’m nowhere near that level of patient, I can’t stand watching the two of you dance around one another when you should be talking, now get to it.”

“Yes Sir,” Loki said, slightly amused in spite of himself.

Haewkyr looked slightly mollified. “Well, good, you two can chat tomorrow, I’ll even pack you a picnic lunch.”

“You mean you’ll ask the kitchens to do it,” Loki said.

“Yes, but I’ll be very exact in my instructions,” Haewkyr said.

Loki rolled his eyes and turned away. On the outside he feigned calm, but inside his heart was racing. Talk to Thor? He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know where to start! And yet somehow Haewkyr had talked him into it within minutes. Was that because Haewkyr was so damn persuasive, or because Loki wanted to be persuaded?


	36. Thirty Five Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Difficult Talk

That night Loki made a list of the things he wished to tell Thor. Number one, that he was no longer suitable to be Thor’s queen. Number two, that he wanted to have the freedom to do what he pleased, and that his time as a queen here in Vanaheim had shown him that this was not possible if they married. Number three, there was no telling whether he would ever be stable again, his outbursts were still far too frequent, his emotions would go up and down like, well, crazy.

Then there was the Ink. He still felt it all over his skin. Sometimes he’d wake in the night and feel as though he was choking on it. With great effort he had stopped avoiding contact with other people, it was, after all, only affecting him.

He still bathed three times a day, and he *couldn’t* shake the feeling that he needed to touch three of everything to ensure it didn’t follow him.

He’d told Sharewdia about it and she’d advised him to try not to give in to those urges. Such a task seemed impossible, but he’d begun that morning by only touching *two* of everything, so as to ease himself off it.

He’d spent all morning feeling vaguely nauseous as a result. In the end he’d given in and scrubbed himself hard at his next bath, breaking the skin all over again. 

He’d felt like such a failure.

His grandfather had assured him that he was no such thing, and that setbacks occurred to everyone, *especially* when they were just beginning to face a challenge. Nevertheless he felt demoralised.

Thor would have to accept it. Loki’s reasons were ironclad. 

Putting aside that list for a moment, Loki began the second one, of things he’d like to do, places he’d like to visit and why.

Well, he’d seen a lot of Vanaheim, but he’d quite like to see Alfheim, and a visit to Midgard sounded like fun. There were more worlds than just the Nine Realms though. The Nine Realms were linked by a shared history and by the magic of Yggdrasil, but there were places far out in the galaxy that Loki’d like to see.

He wrote down a few that he’d read about, before stopping and staring at the page.

What else would he like to do?

A thought flashed across his mind, but surely Sharewdia had not meant something so simple.

Then again, maybe she had. She *was* always drawing his attention to the little things, often as a way to break down the enormous big thing that was his entire broken mind.

Loki gave a kind of half-shrug and wrote: Grow hair long.

Well he always said, okay, thought, speaking was not encouraged, that he wanted to grow his hair down to his arse. He hadn’t cut it since the King’s death, so now he wouldn’t.

The thought *felt* naughty, and slightly thrilling. It was something that everyone else could just take for granted but for Loki, it represented freedom.

“I am free,” he said quietly. “I am free and I will *not* cut my hair.”

Nothing happened. The night continued on quietly, the faint sounds of the horses in the stables far below reached his ears. No punishment of any kind rained down on his head.

Loki took a deep, slow breath.

“I am free, of a horrible, nasty, self-absorbed, disgusting, revolting, lecherous, bastard of a man, and I will *not* cut my hair because he likes it short, I will *not* wear earrings because it is his will. I am free of all of that. I am free of _him._ ”

Loki turned quickly and scanned the room; his heart was beating like a piston in his chest.

Nothing. Nothing at all. Loki blinked hard as the tears welled up in his eyes and began to fall down his cheeks as a feeling of terrified elation ran through him.

“I am free,” he said again to the empty room, “and I will never be caged again.”

****

Thor couldn’t sleep. Haewkyr had dropped by earlier that evening to inform him that Loki would like to talk to him tomorrow over lunch. Thor had thanked him, while still fighting an irrational burst of jealousy. 

No matter how nice Haewkyr was, a small part of Thor really wanted to punch him in the throat. He *knew* that it was wrong of him, but did Loki really have to become such good friends with someone so like Thor himself? It didn’t help that Haewkyr was slightly older than both of them, he had a certain way of moving and talking that spoke of easy confidence. A man of the world that made Thor feel like a child again. Thor had often felt such confidence in the past, and indeed had rarely second-guessed himself, until Loki’s life had flashed before his eyes and shaken him to his very core.

Thor had never realized quite how annoying endless confidence could be until he met Haewkyr. The man’s two brothers didn’t bother him at all, and this despite the fact that they were older still. Cleawlyr was married, and Tailonyr was due to be so quite soon. 

It was the closeness to Loki that Thor resented, not Haewkyr himself. As long as he could recognize that and keep his irrational thoughts from being expressed, hopefully he wouldn’t do anything to make a fool of himself.

With a loud sigh Thor tossed the covers off his bed and rose. He wanted to be well rested for tomorrow but his thoughts were far too loud. He went to the window and leaned out, breathing in the night air scented with tea.

Tomorrow he had another chance to talk to Loki, another chance to explain that he was *here* for Loki, come what may. Maybe if he said it often enough Loki would actually believe him.

Thor sighed and glanced upwards and to his left. He had discovered, approximately two hours after arriving, that Loki’s bedroom window was up there.

The light was on. Perhaps Loki was as nervous as he was? Thor wished dearly that he could fly up there and reassure Loki that there was nothing to worry about.

No doubt that would be interpreted as ‘pushing’, even to the most open-minded of individuals.

They had a long way to go, he and Loki. Who knew how long? But deep in his heart, Thor knew that someday things would be better, someday he and Loki would work things out and be… something, maybe not what they originally thought, but *something* to one another, not two people who existed only on the edge of each other’s lives.

With another heartfelt sigh, Thor turned and went back to bed. 

****

Loki was biting his lips with nerves as he stood in the stables. Thor would be arriving any second and they would be riding down to the where the river split into four distinct streams. It was a lovely little picnic spot which, Haewkyr assured him that morning, absolutely no one else would be at, on pain of pain.

People were putting themselves out a lot for Loki, a fact of which he was starting to become uncomfortably aware.

He’d not really noticed before, too caught up in his own worries about the Ink and what it could mean. Self-obsessed, that was the word. He’d been horribly self-obsessed, and yet somehow everyone had allowed it. Had they known that he was in no condition to be otherwise? 

He’d had a lot to think about since Thor’s revelation about the Norns, and he’d been so lucky to have such constant support from his family.

And so for their sake, he was going to meet Thor and at least *try* to explain his thoughts.

Lightning was eager to go, he kept pulling at the reins in Loki’s hand. 

Then a shadow blocked the sun and Thor appeared. Loki’s heart gave a leap and he had to stop himself from stepping forwards and holding out his arms for an embrace. He wanted to embrace Thor, now that he knew the Ink was inside and couldn’t hurt him. A simple hug would be wonderful, although he still doubted that he could ever do more than that, not after… but best not to think of the King.

“Loki.”

Thor said his name like a prayer.

“Thor,” Loki said, sounding a lot more formal. 

“I’ll just saddle up and we’ll be going,” Thor said. His voice sounded stiffer after Loki’s greeting.

Loki watched Thor hunt for an astride saddle.

“They’re at the back, Haewkyr was really the only person who used them before we arrived,” Loki said.

Thor’s shoulders stiffened a little at the sound of his voice, but he moved further back and found a saddle.

“Thank you,” he said.

Loki watched Thor saddle his horse. He was determined to stay calm today. Too many times he had lost control of himself in front of Thor. Why Thor? Why was it always Thor? He could maintain control in front of everyone else and yet it was the man he loved most in the world who bore the brunt of his fury. It wasn’t fair, and Loki was determined to stop himself.

Thor finished saddling the horse and gave Loki another smile.

“Let’s get going,” Loki said and led Lightning outside.

“That’s a fine horse,” Thor said, admiring Lightning as he walked.

“Lightning’s the fastest horse I’ve ever ridden,” Loki said.

“Did Haewkyr find him for you?” Thor asked.

“No, he was a gift from…” Loki stopped, a cold feeling went through him.

“Loki?”

“He was a gift from the King,” Loki said in a thick voice.

Thor stood awkwardly in the yard while Loki took a few deep breaths.

“I’m sure he was pleased to be given to a rider like you, who loves speed so much,” Thor said after a pause.

Loki reached up and stroked Lightning’s nose. “He was injured when I got him, he couldn’t gallop. Haewkyr healed him, and for centuries we would ride so fast together without the King ever knowing,” he said. “He’s a good horse.”

Loki mounted up without looking at Thor, his eyes were still focusing far away, somewhere in the past. Thor mounted up on his own horse and they slowly trotted out of the yard.

Lightning was a good horse, a friend, Loki reflected as he headed out of the gates and onto the road with Thor beside him. It wasn’t his fault that he came from the King, something as large and *full of life* as Lightning would never carry the stain of the King, he would simply refuse to do so. There was something reassuring about Lightning, for all that the thought of his origins had frozen Loki for a moment.

****

‘Haewkyr had saved the day, _again,_ ’ thought Thor as he rode beside Loki. ‘Was there anything he *couldn’t* do?’

He was being unfair again, and he knew it, but there was a part of him that wouldn’t allow Haewkyr the benefit of any doubt. He was too perfect, too charming, ‘and he was here,’ snuck in the thought, ‘he was here and you weren’t.’

Yes, that. But today was not about that, no day should be about that. Today he and Loki were going to talk, properly, about whatever it was that they were to one another.

What he wouldn’t give to return to the lake all those years ago and make Loki his, a few months be damned. Sure, he’d have gotten into trouble for it, the law was the law for a reason, but, being so close in age to Loki he would have gotten a slap on the wrist at most, and then Loki could have been his and this whole horrible tragedy could have been avoided.

And if gingerbread men could fly they’d shoot them down with sugar-arrows. Such fantasies were pointless at best and dangerous at worst. Focus on what’s in front of you, the only way is forwards.

They reached the road. It was wide and very flat. Loki turned in his saddle and flashed Thor a mischievous look. For the briefest of moments Thor saw the old Loki looking back at him from behind tired eyes, then Loki turned and urge Lightning into a gallop.

Damn that horse was fast. Thor couldn’t have caught up even if he wanted to. Lightning took off with a bunching of muscle and cloud of dust. Loki rose in his saddle as they disappeared down the road together.

Thor tried to keep up but the castle horse was nowhere near capable of even reaching such speeds, let alone maintaining them.

Eventually Loki slowed and sat back, waiting for Thor to catch up. Thor gave him a grin as he wiped the dust and sweat off his brow. “That is one fast horse. Do you think we could breed him one day? Try and get a small herd going.”

Loki looked thoughtful. “I don’t see why not, he’d probably love to stud, I don’t even know where in Vanaheim he’s from, maybe he was the slowest in his herd.”

“I doubt it, I’ve seen the Vanir horsemen ride in battle, they’re damn good with those pole-things they use, but they don’t reach Lightning’s speeds,” Thor said.

It was good to be able to talk like this, about regular things. Just the two of them together.

‘See my love, we can do this,' Thor thought. But he allowed no trace of his thoughts on his face, Loki was almost certainly not ready to hear them.

They rode the rest of the way together, speaking little, but without too much awkwardness in their silences.

‘That is because we’re saving it up for lunch,' Thor thought pessimistically.

But maybe not, Loki seemed different since the last time they had seen one another. He seemed a little more relaxed. It was impossible to tell what was going on behind those green eyes, but Thor hoped that he’d reached a turning point of some kind.

****

It took them two hours to ride to the Four Streams Garden, which was covered in an abundance of flowers. Every colour was represented, and the field was astonishing to look at. Some of the flowers were the height of a man, others were tiny, so much so that you had to look where you stepped if you wished to avoid them.

There was a paved path leading to a seating area near the centre. Loki and Thor released their horses into the nearby enclosure and walked with their lunch to the stone table and benches.

“Let’s see what Haewkyr instructed the kitchens to pack,” Loki said, putting his packs on the table.

Thor smiled a little tightly. “I’m sure he has good taste,” he said. His voice was a little forced, but Loki didn’t notice.

“Hmm, a good loaf of bread, some cheese, two kinds, some sliced beef, cold potatoes with onion bits, what looks like a medium whole salmon, four pork pies, some mini savoury tarts, a salad, no, two salads, one with tomatoes and one with cabbage, both have bacon, an entire cake, a large flask of flavoured spring-water and another one of hot digestive-tea. Oh, and a container of biscuits, butter-based, for dunking.”

Thor couldn’t help but grin. “He know you very well I think,” he said as Loki laid the feast out before them.

“You can eat your whole weight in one sitting, Thor, so don’t you put this on me,” Loki said, smiling a little.

Thor couldn’t believe how well things were going. It was too good to be true, which was why he was feeling so suspicious. 

For now though, he ate his share of the food and made careful, light-hearted, small-talk. Perhaps Loki was ready to reach out? He could only hope.

****

Loki was feeling surprisingly calm. His list from the night before had clarified things in his mind. Yes, he was saying goodbye to Thor as a lover and queen, but perhaps there was a chance they could be friends. They were, after all, still brothers, and as long as they kept things light between them-

-like Lord Kinndyr’s wife? Who lost her mind and wound up trying to kill him and the royal family?

Loki very carefully put down his cup.

“Loki, are you alright?” Thor asked suddenly.

‘No,’ Loki wanted to say. ‘I am not alright, I am broken and damaged and I have no idea how dangerous I am, I don’t *feel* dangerous, but maybe she didn’t either. What if I snap one day? Will anyone see it coming?’

“I just had an unpleasant thought,” Loki said, suddenly serious.

Thor put his own cup down and took a deep breath, this was after all, what they came out here to do.

“I’m not sure where to start with this, Loki, but there are things I wish you to know,” he said seriously.

Loki looked at him warily from the other side of the table. “Can I go first?” he asked. 

He had a feeling he knew what Thor would say and he wanted to head him off before he went too far.

“Of course,” Thor said.

Loki took a deep breath. This was going to be very hard.

“I love you,” he said, “but I can’t marry you.”

Thor opened his mouth to protest but Loki held up a hand.

“Thor, I am broken, my mind is broken, I need to heal and I cannot do that *and* be the queen of Asgard. I am angry, at everything. I keep wanting to yell and scream and break things, maybe I’ll get better, or maybe I’ll get worse, I don’t know! But I do know that I cannot be what I once was to you. I cannot bear the thought of… of intimacy, of *children*, I am far too unstable to even think of having them. I would make you miserable, Thor, and I would be a terrible queen. But more than that, far more than that, I… that is… I… I don’t *want* to be the queen of Asgard. I want freedom, Thor, I want to rule my own life. I’ve tried being a queen and I hated it, and I know that you are different, you are a world away fr-from *him*, but you will still be Asgard’s King, with everything that entails. I won’t be its queen, the very thought of it fills me with horror. I can’t do it, Thor. I won’t do it.”

Thor stared at him in shock.

Oh.

He’d not considered that.

He should have. What kind of a man was he that he hadn’t considered that Loki might not *want* to marry the future King of Asgard.

He longed to renounce his throne right there, to beg Loki to give *him* a chance, as a man, not as a future King, but what would that do to Asgard? A whole kingdom rested on his shoulders and all he wanted to do was abandon it.

But he couldn’t.

“I…understand,” he said carefully. “I do not want to curtail your freedom, Loki, by the Norns you deserve it. I still love you, I… I want to be with you, but... if you can’t see yourself as Asgard’s queen, I mean, that is, if you feel… Loki, I love you. I saw what you went through-“ Loki flushed at the words "-and for the rest of my life I will regret letting you go. I failed you, and I will never forgive myself, so if this is what you need, then… I will accept it, but nothing in the Nine Realms will make me stop loving you.”

Loki looked away, except for that moment before urging Lightning into a gallop, he had not really *looked* at Thor all day. “You need to find someone else,” he said softly.

Thor fought the urge to shake his head. He didn’t *want* anyone else.

“We are young, Loki, too young to worry about such things. So let us both put that thought out of our minds and concentrate on right now. We are still brothers, and I hope that we can be friends. Can we try to be friends? I missed you every day you were not by my side, you were my comrade and brother before my lover. Can we aim to be that to one another again?”

Loki was looking away into the distance, Thor thought he could see tears forming in his eyes.

“I… would like that very much,” he said at last. “I would like to try.”

Take that, Haewkyr.

Thor had to stop himself from pulling Loki into a fierce hug. Now was not the time. Instead he held out his arm, as he did with his friends, and smiled as Loki reached out to complete the movement. They clasped hands over the remains of their meal, as the scent of the flowers filled the air.

****

Loki told Thor about his list of travel plans on the ride back. He was interested in where Thor had been on *his* travels, when seeking the Emerald.

It was strange to think that Thor had seen all that he’d been through, and yet still managed to look at him. Even Haewkyr did not know the full story in such detail. But then Thor had always known him better than anyone, so why would *that* change just because they hadn’t seen each other in two hundred and fifty years? It didn’t matter what Loki *told* other people, only Thor knew the true horror of it all. 

Was it wrong to be grateful that it was him? That the man he loved was the one with whom he *truly* shared his darkest moments with?

Thor told him of his travels to the highest peaks of Alfheim, where they had been attacked by a giant eagle trying to defend its nest.

“We were in desperate trouble, but then a fog came up out of nowhere and we were able to hide ourselves, and even reach our goal without it seeing us again,” he said.

Loki blinked, remembering his dream from so many years ago, where he’d called the fog up to hide Thor and his companions.

He told Thor about it as they rode slowly down the road.

Thor was silent for a few minutes afterwards.

“Then you saved my life,” he said simply. “I underestimated the size and strength of the bird. Even when you were far from my side you were looking out for me.”

Loki smiled down at his saddle.

“I still have your knife,” he said. “It’s been my favourite since you gave it to me. I contemplated throwing Father’s away many times over the years, but people would have asked questions that I couldn’t answer. Now though, I think I will get rid of it. I only want yours.”

“The castle blacksmith will melt it down for you, and you can sell the jewels for a good price I’m sure,” Thor said.

“You think I should do it?” Loki asked, surprised. “It is not a thing to be done lightly, throwing away a gift from Father.”

“That man is not my Father,” Thor said. “Not after what he did to you.”

His tone was mild, but it was only mild because he was very deliberately keeping it that way. Loki looked across into the face of Thunder.

“Thor-“ he began.

“My mind is made up in this matter, Loki, I will not be changing it. If Odin wants a child of his on the throne then he’ll have to accept my decision, and I would never advise you to keep something that brings you pain.”

Loki looked back at the road ahead.

“I’ll have it done tonight then,” he said.

“I’ll help with the bellows,” Thor answered.


	37. Thirty Six Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trying

_Loki was sitting in the classroom back at the Tower. All around him sat his old classmates from so long ago. He shared a smile with Daenceia as Shiarpia stole his pen._

_“Hey!” Loki called out, laughing as he tried to take it back._

_She grinned at him, and waved it out of his reach._

_Loki turned to Rohundia and sent her a pleading look._

_“Help me!” he said, still laughing._

_She reached out and took the pen from Shiarpia’s fingers, causing the other girl to let out a cry of mock outrage. Loki laughed as Rohundia held out the pen._

_“I’m sorry, Loki,” she said._

_Loki smiled at her. “For what?” he asked._

_She turned into Lady Nicceia, who back-handed him across the face._

_“For not killing you fast enough,” she spat._

_Loki looked around for his friends but they hadn’t seemed to notice the change._

_Lady Nicceia advanced on his as he crawled away from her, smiling cruelly._

_“You go away,” Loki said, stopping as his back hit the wall._

_Lady Nicceia raised her hand, which glittered with magic._

_Loki scowled. “You. Go. Away.” He said again, with more force._

_She shattered into a thousand pieces, falling to the floor and showering Loki in ice._

****

Loki’s eyes snapped open, he could still feel the cold shards scattered on his skin.

‘It’s all in your head,’ he told himself. ‘You’ve had a bad dream and it’s making you feel dirty.’

He shook in his bed for a minute before letting out a moan of defeat and getting up. It was *on* him, all over his skin. He felt disgusting.

‘You are disgusting,’ his thoughts said. ‘You will always be tainted with this,’

“No,” Loki whispered as he filled the bath.

‘Yes,’ his thoughts whispered back, ‘always disgusting, never clean.’

Loki sighed deeply. Maybe his darkest thoughts were right, maybe he *would* never be clean again.

At least the filth couldn’t hurt anyone else. 

Yesterday he’d spoken to Thor, he’d explained himself and tried very hard not to scream or cry or lose control of his temper. 

He had succeeded too. He’d been quite proud of himself, sad, but proud. He’d told Lord Eadgleyr about it that evening and gotten a hug in return.

“You do what you need to do, Loki darling, and I’m very proud of you too for talking to Thor. You two have a lot of pressure on you both and at least some of it should be faced together.”

He’d fallen asleep feeling pensive and exhausted. The build-up leading to their talk had been overwhelming. He had hoped that Thor would not make things difficult, and he hadn’t, but he hadn’t exactly given up on Loki either. That nonsense about being too young to worry about finding someone else, Thor was the perfect age to start looking, but, Loki supposed, he could always marry when he was older as well, many people did after all.

Would he wait until he was ancient and then marry someone who was practically a child?

No, Thor wouldn’t do that. He was far too good of a man. He’d wait a few centuries and then start courting. Perhaps by then Loki would be able to stand the thought of it.

‘He’s not yours anymore, you’ve given him up. It was the right thing to do,’ he thought to himself. ‘I just wish the rest of me could believe it. I wish it didn’t hurt so much to live with.’

Loki scrubbed until he felt clean and then climbed carefully out of the bath. He couldn’t quite make himself stand on the mat, as he recognized it as the same one from yesterday, but he inched around on the tiles and picked up a clean towel that was definitely going to be the only one he used.

Okay it wasn’t, in the end, but he managed to only use two again, and he wasn’t going to feel sick about it.

The Ink was still on him, it needed the third towel to jump off onto.

No. Not going to happen. It’s all in your mind. Let it stay there.

The third towel was *right there*.

No. Keep walking, go and get dressed.

Just one touch?

No.

Please?

No!

Loki hovered in indecision. He wanted to keep walking but the feeling of filth wasn’t gone yet.

He compromised by touching the wall. It wasn’t the third towel, and the Ink still left him. There, done. He’d work harder on it tomorrow.

For now he was going to eat breakfast. He’d gotten into the habit of eating early so as to avoid Thor, but he didn’t have to do that anymore.

Loki frowned. That’s right, he didn’t. Was he hungry? Not especially. He could wait a while until the rest of the castle went downstairs.

Instead he sat at his desk and began another list, one that was hopefully going to aid him in figuring out who had helped his Grandfather curse Odin. 

Someone who cared for him very much. Hmm. 

Picking up the pen, Loki began to write down the names of everyone who he thought, in one way or another, cared about him.

Thor, of course, Mother, Lord Eadgleyr, Haewkyr, Daenceia, Thainia, Shiarpia? Maybe. Fosxyr, Mulseen, Camtan and Sofftia, Dorgen, Mulmyr, Lyrren and Occtir, Sheiftyr, Polweren, Spaottyen, about half the students he’d helped through the Tower, then there was the people he’d left behind, Fandral, Sif, Hogun and Volstagg, Amora had always been a friend, Lady Visxena? She had reason to hate Odin, then there was Hieddenyr, Wraenyr, Femtchyr and Camrryen, there were a lot of people actually.

Granted, not many of them had magic, but magic could be bought, so not having any of their own did not *immediately* exclude them. He probably could rule out those he left behind in Asgard, they had almost no knowledge of his time in Vanaheim and as such, had no reason to punish Odin.

But that still left quite a long list. Pure deduction ruled out Lord Eadgleyr, if he’d been involved he would have likely admitted it once Loki knew what was going on. His continued ignorance appeared to be genuine, perhaps he didn’t even know Odin had been cursed? Lord Fallconyr was courting trouble there.

Who else was unlikely? Thor, for one, he had not set foot on Vanaheim at that point, unless he recruited mother to help him, although, from the way Lord Fallconyr had spoken it sounded as though he’d only had one accomplice.

Daenceia? She certainly cared enough about him, but had she ever met his grandfather? What if they’d sought each other out? Whose idea had the curse been anyway?

Musleen could have asked her to provide it, and not told Lord Fallconyr how he’d come across it, thus making the single accomplice theory still stand.

In the end Loki wound up with a short list of names:

Frigga, the most likely, and she had seidr of her own, so she wouldn’t have to buy it;  
Musleen, possibly with Daenceia’s help;  
Fosxyr, he seemed resourceful enough at least to locate a Mage who could cast such a curse.

Satisfied that he had narrowed it down so far, Loki folded the paper up and placed it in his pocket. He was going to figure it out one way or another. Fosxyr would admit it outright if Loki asked him, Musleen wouldn’t, but maybe he’d get it out of Daenceia, and Mother? Well, Mother would tell him by the look in her eye when he next found a time to speak to her.

For now it was breakfast time, he could hear the sounds of people making their way down to the Hall.

He’d eat with Thor, and they would try to be friends.

He could do this.

Time for a new start.

****

Thor reached the Hall and grabbed a plate from the side table. There was already a decent crowd and he saw Cleawyr sitting down and trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. 

Thor loaded up his plate and then sat down next to him.

“Good morning,” Cleawyr greeted. “How was yesterday?”

Thor risked a very small smile. “Encouraging, I think. We’ve agreed to try and be friends.”

“That’s good, does that mean you are talking to one another?”

“I hope so,” Thor said.

“I’m guessing so because he’s here,” Cleawyr said.

Thor’s head whirled around in time to see Loki head to the food table, plate in hand.

“I suppose we’ll find out,” he said, trying not to sound nervous.

“Take some deep breaths, cousin, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Cleawyr said, although he too sounded nervous.

The door of the Hall opened again and Haewkyr strode in. He saw Loki at the food table and grinned.

“Down Noilasti,” Cleawyr muttered as Thor almost rose in his seat.

Thor looked at him, puzzled. 

“What’s that?” he asked as he tried not to look as though he was watching Loki and Haewkyr interact.

“A big cat from the Game-lands, it’s hot there, with long grass, and the Noilasti can get rather… riled when they encounter something they don’t like,” Cleawyr said, his eyes boring into Thor’s. “Haewkyr’s a good man and a good brother, no doubt he is also a good cousin. If there’s anything about their friendship you don’t like, it’s not going to be coming from him.”

Thor flushed as he was scolded. He’d been trying so hard to clamp down on his jealousy, but the sight of Haewkyr had made him forget that.

“I don’t hate him,” he said, “I just want what he has. Loki laughs when he speaks, I used to be able to make him do that.”

“One day, cousin, small steps are required,” Cleawyr said in a mild tone, but the rebuke in his eyes was still lurking. Thor may be a new friend but Haewkyr was a little brother. 

To Thor’s utter delight, Loki came over to join him. Haewkyr was following, but he decided that he didn’t care, not when Loki was standing there with his plate held in front of him like a shield and with a nervous edge to his smile.

“Good morning Loki, Haewkyr,” Thor said, trying to sound welcoming to both. Cleawyr gave him a nod of approval so he must have sounded all right.

“Good morning Thor,” Loki and Haewkyr both said, settling themselves at the table. 

Loki still looked nervous. Thor shot him a quick smile before going back to his food. Loki had promised to try after all; Thor didn’t want him to feel pressured by that promise.

Loki started eating and for a few minutes there was nothing but the sound of chewing.

“I’m heading out this morning to check on the woodland fences,” Haewkyr said. “Lorokyr says he saw some rabbits in the area last night. If that’s true we need to cull their numbers and drive them back into the trees. I’m going to investigate.”

“Do they eat the tea crops?” Loki asked.

“Do they ever,” Cleawyr said. “Absolute pests, they are. I’ll go with you, brother, if you’d like the company?”

“Certainly, Loki? Thor? Would you like to come?” Haewkyr added.

Loki shook his head. “I’m spending the morning in the Properties Room. We’re making the wake-up tea additive and Grandfather promised to teach me the secret of the wake-up beans.”

“I have no other tasks,” Thor said. “I would like to accompany you.”

This was something of a lie. He still felt like a nasty, small-kind of person where Haewkyr was concerned, but Cleawyr’s words had had an impact. Thor thought he should get to know his cousin better, especially as Loki was so fond of him.

Oblivious, Haewkyr grinned at him. “Good, you can tell me about Asgard while we ride. I’ve only been there once, and it wasn’t for long before we left to fight the Trolls.”

“You are in the army?” Thor asked, surprised.

Haewkyr shook his head. “*Was* in the army, *was*, it wasn’t the life for me. I accept that now.”

Thor nodded, although that wasn’t really an explanation. 

Cleawyr grinned. “If we find rabbits that close to the fence line we’ll be hunting all day. Loki can join us later if he wants to, and maybe for the day after as well. It really depends on the numbers, and how hard they are to kill.”

Loki smiled, lighting up Thor’s world. “If I don’t see you at the lunch table I’ll ride up to meet you,” he said. “I’ll bring extra food, in case all the hunting has increased your appetites.”

“Sounds like a plan, are you all finished Thor? Good, let’s get going,” Haewkyr said, swallowing the last of his water and standing up.

“See you later, Loki,” Thor said, rising to put his plate on the dishes table.

“See you later,” Loki replied.

Thor walked away with a hammering heart, resisting the urge to turn around as he left. 

That hadn’t been so bad.

Loki finished his breakfast with a hammering heart, trying not to let his hands shake. 

That hadn’t been so bad.

If only they knew what the other was thinking, then perhaps things would have gone better still.

****

Loki watched as Lord Fallconyr carefully measured out the last ingredient and tipped it into the mix.

“There,” he said. “We just have to drop it in the duster, which will coat the leaves in a fine power before they dry. It sticks better that way.”

Loki picked up the container. It was a large one, but he carried the weight easily enough as they headed down the corridors to the store rooms.

“This one here, Loki, good man, pour it into the duster,” Lord Fallconyr said.

Loki tipped the jar up, pouring the fine mixture into the machine. Lord Fallconyr clamped the lid on tightly and activated it, then they walked the brief distance to the viewing station, which was a balcony enclosed in glass.

The duster pulverized the already fine power into something even finer and sprayed it out into the air. The dust was slow to settle, and for about ten minutes all that could be seen was a kind of off-white cloud, obscuring everything.

Loki was pleased that everything had gone well. The wake-up mixture was also used in medicine, in much stronger doses. This stuff would only provide a slight jolt in energy, enough to get someone going of a morning.

“I’m going to see if Thor, Haewkyr and Cleawyr are back from checking on the rabbits, if not, I’ll join them,” Loki said, looking to his grandfather almost as though seeking approval.

Perhaps subconsciously he was. He was trying very hard now to heal himself. He wanted them to know about his progress, mostly so that when he hit a setback they would see that he really had been trying.

Lord Fallconyr needed no such reassurance, but, to make Loki happy, he smiled at him and said: “I’m glad to hear it. Shall we check the Hall now?”

Loki nodded and they set off at a slow walk.

Lord Eadgleyr met them at the door.

“Loki dear, there you are. I’ve just come from the Properties Room.”

“What is it?” Loki asked, suddenly alarmed.

“Nothing wrong dear, not at all, but you have a visitor.”

“Me?” Loki asked, surprised. “Who has come to see me?”

Lord Eadgleyr gave him a gentle smile. “I think our friend the Fox overheard you say that no one understands what you went through,” he said, “and I think your visitor just might.”

****

Lady Visxena was waiting in one of the public visitor’s rooms. She smiled when she saw Loki peeping around the door.

“Greetings, your Grace,” she said.

Loki stepped inside. He’d always known her as one of his Mother’s ladies, albeit one he could charm a biscuit out of when Mother wasn’t looking. She’d played with him when he’d been young, but like most young boys he’d lost interest in the ladies of his mother’s court when someone gave him his first training sword.

He wondered now if her attentions toward him had, in some small way, been her way of coping with the loss of her sons. Apart from the biscuits and a few stories, he couldn’t really remember her very well.

She looked older than his memories, although that was not unexpected, but she was still beautiful. Her face was lovely, her hair still thick and mostly golden, even the lines on her face didn’t detract much from her appearance.

The lines made her look sad – no – sorrowful, but then she’d had much to be sorrowful about in her life until now.

“Lady Visxena,” Loki said, taking her hand and kissing the back in the Aesir fashion.

She smiled again, and Loki found himself searching her face for signs of Fosxyr, or Musleen and Camtan. There were traces of Musleen in her nose, which was straight, and Camtan in her eyes, which sparkled light blue and looked like they had just thought of a good joke.

“I’ve never really been much of a lady,” she said, as they sat. “His Majesty, King Dorgen, was gracious enough to grant me the title when I arrived, but I’m wondering whether I’m allowed to give it back, and what would happen if I do.”

Loki felt the corner of his mouth turn up. She was a calm kind of person, perhaps centuries of hiding and waiting had taught her to be so, but he knew why she was here, and he dreaded the conversation that her arrival might bring.

He could stop her now, insist that he did not need her advice, but deep down, a part of him wanted to hear what she had to say. What if it helped?

Besides, he had questions. One question in particular had been nagging at him for centuries now.

“My brother told me that you were having trouble coping after the death of the King,” she said gently. “He said that you were adamant that no one knew what you had gone through. That may well be true, your Grace, it had been a long time since my marriage, but if there is common ground between us, and it would help, then I would like to help you. I am so sorry for what you went through.”

Loki gripped the armrests of his chair tightly. “Fosxyr advised me a great deal, my Lady, based on his previous experience. I am afraid to report that our experiences appear to have been very similar.”

It was formal language, but he was trying to keep control over himself. He wanted to scream again, at everything. This was not a conversation that he wanted to have!

Did he?

He didn’t know, and the confusion was driving him crazy.

Lady Visxena was watching him carefully.

“I cried every night from the moment I was married to the moment I saw my sons again,” she said quietly. “First I was crying for myself, then I was crying for my children, who had to grow up with that monster without me. I regret what I did, because it hurt them. For the rest of my life I will regret what I did, and I am so grateful to King Dorgen for being what a brother ought, and raising them to be good men.”

“How could you even do it?” Loki asked. Visxena flinched. “No, I mean, not like that, I mean… physically, how could you stand to be touched after he was done with you? Just a hug makes me uncomfortable, although I try not to show it. I never want to lie with someone ever again, and you managed it while you were still *with* him.”

There, the burning question had been asked at last.

Lady Visxena thought about it. “I don’t really know what to tell you,” she said at last, “except that we are all different people and respond differently to things. I found the arms of my lover to be a safe place, a place where first I could cry, and then reassure myself that I was able to be *loved*, not desired, or lusted after, but properly loved. Some nights he just held me, for hours, because he loved me. It was a place a solace.”

“I don’t feel that way,” Loki said. “I wish I could, because then I could be with the one I love, but I can’t.”

Lady Visxena nodded slowly to show that she had understood. “I used to bath five times a day sometimes,” she said, “just to get the feel of him out of my skin.”

“I still do that,” Loki admitted, “although it’s three times, and a lot of hand-washing.”

“It took me eight hundred years to stop feeling terror whenever a noble of Asgard would pay me some attention,” Lady Visxena admitted. “I was very good at hiding it, but even a glance from a man would send me into a panic.”

“How did you manage?” Loki asked.

“I sought help from a young healer, about my age, who Queen Frigga said could be trusted. Eir has been a very good friend to me over the centuries,” she said.

Loki blinked hard, he could feel tears welling up.

“She tried to be a friend to me,” he said. “I rejected her.”

“I doubt she’ll take it personally, she’s been a close confident of mine for many years. When I heard she’d been sent for to treat Musleen for a _head_ injury I fainted from fear. But she came back with him healed, and she snuck a picture of him without him seeing, I carried it with me from that point on. He looked so grown up I cried.”

“I remember that visit, she asked me how I was, I wonder what she would have done if I had told her the truth?” Loki mused.

“She’d have reported it to your Mother, in fact she did report everything she saw and heard, but you were very persuasive at the time, she wasn’t certain that he was still doing such terrible things, or whether age had caught up with him.”

“Did he… did he spank you? And make you… make you play along?” Loki asked suddenly.

His face flushed with embarrassment, he shouldn’t have asked, he felt like a fool – 

“Yes, and worse. He never wanted to hear that I was anything other than happy and willing to be his private whore,” Lady Visxena said.

“That’s how I felt,” Loki said. “He would… *do* things to me, terrible things, sometimes… in my… he’d make me… it was terrible, and he acted like I was supposed to enjoy it, he never apologized for hurting me, I was afraid to tell him! I’d never feared a man before in my life and then he came and I felt nothing but fear, every day, every _damn_ day until he died, and even now he haunts my dreams and makes me feel unclean. I want it to stop, tell me you found a way to make it stop?”

Lady Visxena looked at him calmly. Even through his whirling emotions, Loki could see where Musleen got his steel from. “It did stop,” she said. “It took a long time, and it went in fits and starts, some days were good, others were bad, and just when I thought he was gone from my thoughts I would have a nightmare and start all over again. Every time he visited Asgard I hid away in the country, even though that meant that I could never see my boys when they came with him. But eventually, eventually he left me alone more than he haunted me, eventually I saw happiness in the world, eventually I laughed, without feeling his presence over my shoulder a second later. Eventually, it stopped.”

Loki bit his lip hard. He was still trying to hold back tears but they were already on his cheeks.

“Can I skip the bit in the middle and just make him go away?” he asked in a voice thick with emotion.

“If that path was possible, I’d walk it with you, every step,” she answered. “All you can do is keep going forwards, every day, just a little bit, one small step after another, and Loki?”

“Yes?”

“In a little while, when you feel things on your path are slowing to a halt, or you reach a point where you feel you cannot progress any further, cannot take another step, I would like you to take my advice.”

“Which is?”

“Take a very deep breath, close your eyes, and jump.”

 

****

Odin lay alone in his big bed and tried to get some sleep. Frigga was in another wing of the palace entirely, a fact that had caused a lot of below-stairs gossip, but she’d absolutely refused to see him outside of official functions.

His mind returned to the room on Vanaheim. Had that dratted Musleen set it up to rattle him? But Loki seemed so unstable, so… so… _timid._

What if it was true? Odin had been warned, by more than one Vanir lady, of the King’s… appetite. He’d assumed that they were exaggerating, or that he’d mellowed with age.

Odin himself wasn’t exactly the fiery young man he’d been in his youth, he’d had a hard time imagining that the old King could be any different.

Surely it was a setup, something to test him, to establish Dorgen’s authority. Loki couldn’t have gone through all that.

In the darkness, Odin felt lips press against his own as old thin fingers wrapped around his upper arms, holding him in place. The lips were old, and wrinkled, and had whiskers around them. They were horrible.

With a cry Odin threw off his covers and frantically turned on the light.

The room was empty. There was no mysterious assailant, but the walls, oh the walls. 

They were bleeding Ink.


	38. Thirty Seven Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Proposition to Travel

Thor was anxious. Loki had not shown up like he said he would. Haewkyr, Cleawyr and Thor had ridden out to the edge of the woodlands and spent all morning examining, and fixing, the fences so that the rabbits couldn’t get under them, and now, after lunch, they were planning to set snares and flush the rabbits out to cull their numbers.

Loki said he’d be there after lunch, well, lunch was over and he hadn’t arrived.

“He’s probably still working with Grandfather, you know what he can be like sometimes,” Haewkyr said.

Thor wanted to scowl but restrained himself. He didn’t want to be told that he knew what Loki was like, that implied that Haewkyr knew _just as well_.

“I worry about him,” he said instead, trying not to imply by his tone that maybe Haewkyr didn’t worry *enough*.

“I’m sure he just got held up with something, he’ll be here soon,” Cleawyr said in a firm tone. “We need to get this done… gentlemen.”

Thor and Haewkyr both bent their head to the task of finding the rabbit burrow entrances and setting up nets across them. It took several hours to place and secure all of them in the area closest to the edge of the wood. Then Cleawyr took down a small cage secured to his saddle and removed two terrefa, thin creatures who were the natural predators of rabbits. These were trained not to kill, but to drive them onwards and out of their burrows.

Cleawyr knelt down and let them into one of the entrances.

“Here we go,” he said as he secured the net over the hole.

It didn’t take long. Soon there was a great thumping and rustling from the burrow, followed by an explosion of movement as the first of the rabbits exploded out and got caught in the nets.

Haewkyr ran quickly to it and snapped its neck, making certain that the net was still secure as more rabbits began to emerge.

It total, after a frantic half hour, they had eighteen rabbits for the kitchens, and ten juveniles for the terrefa. 

“It goes against the normal rules of hunting to kill the young, I know,” Haewkyr said as he snapped a juvenile’s neck and put it in the terrefa cage, “but the rabbits are everywhere, the entire population of Vanaheim couldn’t wipe them out if we tried.”

Thor nodded. He understood, both the traditional hunting rules and the reason for the exception.

“Loki still isn’t here,” he said, helping to pack the rabbit carcasses away in their saddlebags.

“He’ll be fine, just got caught up with something, I’m sure,” Cleawyr said.

“There’s another burrow up a little further, we can hunt there tomorrow, and we’ll have a quick look further inward to see if the population there could use a cull. But I think that’s all, not as bad as the year of the Rabbit Plague.”

Thor frowned, he’d heard the significance of Cleawyr’s tone. “What happened?” he asked.

“We lost four entire fields. They must have had an incredible breeding season over the winter, and come spring it took the combined forces of all the harvesters and field-men to hunt them down. We almost annihilated the population, in fact we thought we had, but there’s always more. We keep a closer eye on them than we used to, we learnt our lesson that year.”

“Indeed, that’s why we came up the second they were spotted,” Haewkyr added. “The crops are everyone’s wages, a bad year means less for everyone, and a good one means more.”

Thor nodded again as they mounted up. “Asgard relies on Vanaheim to provide just over half its food,” he said. “I saw the manifests when I was younger. We just don’t have the space that you do for growing. I remember one year the Vanir harvests were low and the price of food went up so high the palace had to intervene.”

Haewkyr scowled suddenly. “Intervene how?” he asked.

“The farmers sold at a discount, and the palace paid the difference. We lost a lot of gold that year, but the people did not starve.”

“No, but ours did,” Haewkyr said. “The farmers could make more by selling to Asgard so they took the food out of the locals’ mouths. Thank goodness Grandfather is sensible, and grows some grain crops here every year. If the year is good he turns them into beer, if not, he turns it into bread. It’s not perfect but we got through it out here.”

Thor rode in thoughtful silence for a while.

“I’m not sure what else could have been done,” he said at last. “Asgard will protect its citizens as Vanaheim will protect its own. The moral decision had to be made by the farmer, who would have kept enough aside for his family to eat, but done what he liked with the rest.”

“I know,” Haewkyr said. “I *understand* it, but I don’t have to like it.”

“Things were tense towards the end, when the food was growing truly scarce,” Cleawyr added. “The farmers had to hire protection for their stores, and in some cases, for their families. The old King did nothing to help his people the way Asgard did.”

“He was afraid of pissing Odin off,” Haewkyr said bluntly. “Are you going to terrify King Dorgen in his old age one day?” he asked Thor.

Thor shook his head. “You underestimate your King, cousin, I can’t see him being intimidated by anyone.”

****

Loki ended up spending the afternoon with Lady Visxena. It wasn’t an easy conversation by any means, but once they started it was easier to keep going than to stop.

Loki had eventually confessed about the iron chair, the look on Lady Visxena’s face told him, even before she spoke, that she too had lived that nightmare. Being more traditionally female, and as such having more, well, room down there, she had not been as badly hurt physically, although the bruises had lasted months. She looked positively ill when Loki described, in a shaking voice, the damage that he had endured.

“He invented it himself,” she had said, sounding as though she was holding back vomit, perhaps she was. “He was so… *proud* of it, the pinnacle of his perverted insanity.”

“He only used it once, once was more than enough,” Loki said. “Afterwards was the closest he ever came to feeling bad about hurting me, and even then it was barely there. He never apologized.”

“No, he wasn’t the type. Kings are so used to being right that they forget sometimes that they can still be wrong,” Lady Visxena said.

“I want to hurt him,” Loki said. “I want to hit him until I fall down from exhaustion, but I can’t. He’s dead, and for some reason that pisses me off.”

“You have been denied your vengeance,” Lady Visxena said. “I used to want that, but over time I let it go in favour of just wanting him gone. His death was a release for me. I had carried the last of my fear for so long that when it left, I felt almost abandoned. I felt so light a part of me was certain that if I stepped outside I would simply float away.”

Loki reached for his tea. “I would like to feel that way,” he said. “ _After_ I’ve punched his face into the dirt.”

“Try to let it go, your Grace, the only way you could have your vengeance now would be to visit Hel itself, and I do not recommend it. You may feel so angry now that you think you’ll strike him, but think honestly for a moment, after so long under his control, what will really happen?”

Loki thought for a moment, and then slumped a little in his chair. “I’d freeze up and be afraid of him all over again,” he said. “I really wish that weren’t true.”

“Try to let the anger go and move on, anger never really did anyone good in the long term anyway. Dwelling on the hurts of the past will only get you into trouble further into the future,” Lady Visxena advised.

The castle bell rang to indicate the end of the working day to the nearby fields-men. In response, they headed to the towers at the very edge of their fields and rang the bells there, letting those further out know that it was time to stop. This pattern repeated all the way to the edge of the lands and within fifteen minutes, all the workers had put down their tools for the day.

“It’s almost dinner time!” Loki exclaimed. “I told Thor and Haewkyr that I’d meet them to hunt the rabbits at lunch!”

“Oh dear, I’m sure you can explain to them what happened,” Lady Visxena said. “I’m sorry to have kept you so long.”

“I’m not,” Loki said, and he meant it. The conversation had been hard, but worth it. He felt *better* knowing that he wasn’t alone.

Did that make him a bad person? No, he decided. If he had the ability to spare her what had happened to her then he would do so and face this alone, but as she had experienced most of this before he’d even been born, well, he could be thankful that she was here now.

There was one very important point about her that Loki was extremely grateful for. She had spent centuries in the Aesir court, surrounded by nobles and other people who took their safety seriously, and she hadn’t harmed anyone. He *wasn’t* guaranteed to go mad one day, he *could* recover from this, perhaps not completely, but mostly. One day, he could sit, calm as still waters, and speak to someone about his experiences without screaming.

It was in a hopeful mood that Loki led Lady Visxena to her guest room to freshen up before dinner. The he headed down to the stables at not-quite-a-run to greet Thor, and Haewkyr and Cleawyr of course.

Thor was just riding into the yard as Loki arrived. Their eyes met and Thor’s eyes lit up.

Loki knew they could never marry, but he still felt a wondrously traitorous delight in seeing that Thor’s reaction to his presence hadn’t changed in two hundred and fifty years.

****

Lady Visxena stayed for a week. She was a charming woman, who was good at taking an interest in people, and during the evenings she would talk with Loki.

After the week was up though, she packed her things and returned to the capital, where she was planning to say goodbye to one of her sons.

“So you’re going with Camtan to the High Mountains?” Loki confirmed when she told him of her plans.

“I have a granddaughter, and a grandson on the way, he asked me to come with them and I said yes. I understand that Musleen will not be around the palace much in the coming days. He’s… a good son, I think, but his face is like a closed book. He used to laugh and giggle all the time when he was a little boy, now he is so serious, but Fosxyr tells me that he is good humoured, underneath his reserved outer shell.”

“He is,” Loki confirmed. “You have to get to know him, but once you do, you can start to see when he’s laughing on the inside.”

“Hopefully there will be time later. Fosxyr is coming with me to the High Mountains, since Camtan put him in charge of Roaseia’s care. I want to help, if I can.”

“Fosxyr’ll hate that,” Loki said, “He hates the cold.”

“We weren’t born to it, but us common folk are tough, he’ll manage,” she said with a smile.

And so the most uncommon of commoners and the least noble of nobles took her leave, with the promise that Loki could call on her at any time, should he feel he needed it.

For another week Loki and Thor both immersed themselves in the life of the castle, trying, in fits and starts, to reconnect with one another, until another new arrival showed up at their door.

“Your Grace!” Loki called out, half-running down the steps to greet Musleen as he rode into the yard. 

He had come as a prince this time, with a small retinue and more than a single pack of luggage.

Beside him rode Daenceia. She was a little unsteady in the saddle, as common dancers rarely learnt how to ride, but she flashed Loki a big smile as she pulled up and swung herself out of the saddle.

“I’m getting better,” she said. “I rode the whole way here.”

Loki hugged her in greeting, before turning to clasp Musleen’s arm.

“What brings you two here?” he asked, eyeing the retinue behind them.

“Business, of a sort, I, and through me, King Dorgen, have a proposition for you,” Musleen said.

Loki raised his eyebrows, intrigued, as behind him Lord Eadgleyr appeared on the steps.

“Your Grace, welcome. We were not expecting a visit, otherwise we would have hidden the ledgers,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

“Not every visit of mine has to do with wrong-doing or tax evasion,” Musleen complained.

Daenceia giggled as Loki smirked.

“It’s just as well you have that reputation, it makes it easier to spot the troublemakers when you arrive unexpectedly,” Daenceia said, giving him a mischievous look.

Musleen greeted Lord Eadgleyr properly with his palm held down, before gesturing to the men and horses behind him.

“Is there any chance you can accommodate us for a few days, your Lordsir?” he asked.

“Of course, your Grace, the castle has many rooms, I’ll arrange to have your men, and yourself of course, comfortably settled,” Lord Eadgleyr said.

“Thank you, in the meantime, if you are free Loki-“

“Not now, Musleen, we’ve only just arrived,” Daenceia cut in, in that peculiar way woman have once they consider themselves yours. “We can discuss it after we’re not so dusty.”

Loki very deliberately did not stare at Musleen’s rapidly reddening ears.

“How about you come inside and freshen up from the road?” Loki suggested, trying not to laugh. “And then you can tell me whatever you wish to tell me.”

Musleen acquiesced graciously and Loki led them inside himself.

****

Thor came in from the training yards with Tailonyr to find Haewkyr waiting for them.

“Things are happening,” he said mysteriously. “I thought you ought to be informed. His Grace, the once second, now third Prince of the Realm, Prince Musleen, arrived with Miss Daenceia and a group of capable men not half an hour ago. He’s here to speak to Loki, and has requested my presence also. I was on my way there when I decided to detour a little. You see I have a feeling I know what this is about, given that the lovely Miss Daenceia gave me a hint, and I feel that you, Thor, might prove somewhat invaluable to the conversation.”

This said, he turned and headed inside, leaving a thoroughly bewildered Thor behind him.

“Don’t mind him, he’s always been mad,” Tailonyr said. “I’ll put your sword away, go on.”

Thor thanked him and headed after Haewkyr, who was dawdling enough not to lose him. 

“What *is* this about?” Thor asked as they headed upstairs to one of the meeting rooms.

“I believe it has something to do with the Barrier, given that they wish to speak to the two people they know for certain have been on the other side of it. I think you ought to come along because you have been there yourself.”

“I’m not sure that Prince Musleen ought to know that,” Thor said as they reached the door.

Haewkyr flashed him a large grin. 

“Why cousin, who do you think told me you’d been? In we go.”

Thor walked into the room, still tongue-tied from Haewkyr’s cheerful admission. He had, in the course of trying to find the Emerald, technically trespassed on Vanir territory. Outside the Barrier still belonged to Vanaheim, after all. 

Prince Musleen was sitting at the head of a small table, Daenceia and Loki were on one side, talking. They stopped and looked up as well, as Haewkyr closed the door behind him.

“Prince Thor,” Musleen greeted politely, rising from his chair.

They bowed to one another as custom dictated. At the table, Loki pulled a face.

Thor had to suppress a grin at that. His Loki was still in there, and just recently there had been more and more little flashes of him. It was good to see.

“What brings you to this meeting?” Musleen asked.

“Haewkyr suggested it,” Thor said, trying to sound as implacable as Musleen did.

“Oh?” Musleen said, turning his attention to Haewkyr.

“Well, your Grace, we all know why we’re here, and we all know Thor has been where you want to go,” Haewkyr said. “More or less,” he added.

Musleen still looked calm, but he did raise an eyebrow in rebuke. “I believe it was the desire of the King that this matter remain private, however,” he said.

“You’ve already got one Aesir Prince at the table, and somehow I doubt Odin’ll be told. He may find out from his gatekeeper, but not from my cousins,” Haewkyr said confidently.

“He’s right,” Thor and Loki said at the same time.

“Very well then, please sit down,” Musleen said. Perhaps he was still upset at the cat being let out of the bag, but it was impossible to tell.

Thor sat down in the seat closest to Loki, it wasn’t until he was seated that he realized that this put him at the other end of the table, directly opposite Musleen.

Haewkyr sat down opposite Loki, his whole demeanour exuded a calm Thor wished he still had.

“The reason we’ve come out to talk to you is that we are planning to breach the Barrier and explore the lands beyond in preparation for Vanaheim reclaiming her lost realm. I was hoping that Loki could be persuaded to assist us in opening a doorway, as we know you have done it before,” Musleen said.

This last comment was address directly to Loki, who nodded. 

“Once, but it was very small, how big of an expedition are you planning?” he asked.

“About ten people, most of them my men, or trained explorers. Daenceia and I are both going, and I would like Haewkyr to come as well, he’s a good man in a pinch.”

Musleen turned to Thor and regarded him for a moment. “You are welcome to join us, you’re experience may prove invaluable,” he said in a stony tone.

Thor looked uncomfortable, before taking a deep breath. “Your Grace, I apologise for trespassing on Vanir territory without permission, I was on an errand of grave importance and, I assure you, there was no other way.”

For a moment there was silence in the room, then, without seeming to actually move, Musleen relaxed, and, with him, so did the atmosphere. 

“Thank you, your Grace. I understand the subtle mechanics of errands of grave importance and I am sure that you would have taken another way had you been able,” he said. “And you are welcome to come on our expedition if you choose to.”

Thor glanced at Loki – who gave him a tiny nod – and said: “I would be honoured.”

Musleen reached to the bag beside him and pulled out a map.

“We’re planning to leave from here and travel mostly east and a little south. Lord Fallconyr’s lands extend considerably past the Barrier, so we need to cross those and map what’s beyond. There will be old settlements that need charting, and soil samples will be taken. We also need to make an estimate of the amount of manpower needed to reach and reclaim the land. I will be drafting a proper report for Dorgen when we get back, and I would appreciate any input you may have, so please be observant. We hope to have the best locations mapped within a year, so that King Dorgen can then make a request to King Odin to remove the Barrier entirely.”

“How much of the Vanir land is on the outside?” Thor asked.

“About three times what is inside,” Haekwyr said before Musleen could answer. “I’ve seen the old maps too. How big is this operation going to be?”

“Quite possibly the largest one ever undertaken, Dorgen eventually wants the entire realm mapped,” Musleen said. “He wants to increase the farming land, our population has been growing since the war and both space and food are going to become an issue in the next few centuries, especially if we continue to supply Asgard with the majority of its food.”

Thor felt uncomfortable at his words, food had always been *the* issue most likely to divide the two realms. A glance at Loki told him that he was not alone in his feelings.

“I think it would be in Asgard’s best interests to help you as much as possible in this endeavour,” Thor said.

Musleen inclined his head in acknowledgement. “I am glad to hear you think that way, certainly it would help us both. We are planning to leave in two days; will you all be ready to go by then?”

“Yes,” Loki said immediately.

“Yes, your Grace,” Haewkyr added.

“Yes, your Grace,” Thor said.

“Good, I’ll have a copy of the maps sent to you to study, and I trust you can provide your own horses, one’s you are used to and that will not spook easily, as we will be riding quite far at first and then entering unknown territory. If there is anything you think will help us, any suggestions you wish to make, then please do so before we depart.”

****

Loki gave Thor a smile as they left the room.

“You did well there,” he said, “very diplomatic.”

Thor beamed at his praise. “To tell you the truth, Loki, I am a little afraid of the man, he’s so…”

“Unreachable? I thought that at first, but he’s a good man and a good friend, if you take the time to get to know him,” Loki paused and then added, “and if you haven’t committed any crimes.”

“You did want me along, didn’t you?” Thor asked suddenly.

Loki’s mouth turned upwards into a half smile. “Yes, I did. One day you will be dealing with Dorgen, and almost certainly Musleen, on a regular basis. You should get to know them as people. I think if our two realms were closer then there would not be so much tension between them.”

Well, it wasn’t quite what Thor had been hoping to hear, namely that Loki wanted Thor around for himself, but it *was* a very logical argument, they could work on the rest in time.

“I’ll need to see our grandparents about borrowing a horse for the duration,” Thor said.

“I’m sure they’ll be happy to provide one,” Loki said confidently. “Haewkyr’ll find you a good one.”

Of course he would.

Thor stamped down on the thought. Who was walking with Loki right now? Not Haewkyr, that’s who. 

“I’m sure he knows the horses very well,” Thor said.

“He should, he’s got nature magic. He can communicate with animals and heal them,”

Nature magic, yet another thing they had in common. Wonderful.

“Animals is a handy one,” Thor admitted begrudgingly.

“So is weather magic,” Loki said. “Bringing rain to the fields and sun to flooded areas, you can do a great deal with nature magic.”

Thor had to duck his head to hide his smile.


	39. Thirty Eight Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Setback and a Rivalry

It only took four hours.

Four measly little hours for the panic to set in and ruin Loki’s run of good luck.

He had agreed to go on an extended camping trip that would put him in close quarters with Thor for three whole weeks.

What was he thinking?!

Clearly he hadn’t been, not at all, not even a little. 

He couldn’t go camping, and exploring? It was far too soon to be doing such things, he’d only just made the list! He hadn’t even presented it to Sharewdia yet!

Sharewdia. Of course. She’d *said* that she was fine with him coming to see her between their scheduled visits, he hoped very much that she was telling the truth.

It was late, and most of the castle was, if not in bed, then heading that way soon. Loki raced through the corridors in his nightshirt and hammered on her door.

For a minute there was silence beyond, and his panic rose, but then Sharewdia pulled open the door and regarded him calmly.

“Hello Loki, please come in.”

Loki took his usual seat in her living area and tried not to hug his arms around himself. He was shaking badly.

“What has happened?” Sharewdia asked, settling herself.

“I, I, I , I told Musleen I’d go with him through the Barrier, I told Thor I thought he should go, I don’t want to go, I can go yet, I’m not ready,” he babbled out.

“Close your eyes and take a deep breath,” Sharewdia said. “You are in a safe place here Loki, and I want you to calm down, once you are calm, we will discuss this.”

Loki shut his eyes tightly and tried to suppress a whimper. There were bad memories hiding behind his eyelids. He took a deep breath and let it out again immediately.

“Slower, Loki, you are safe.”

He took another breath and let it out more slowly, trying to calm himself down.

It took four more breaths before he was able to open his eyes again and look at her.

“Better?” she asked.

Loki nodded reluctantly. He wasn’t really, but at least the wild beating of his heart had slowed slightly.

“Now, I understand from your explanation that you are concerned with this expedition the Prince Musleen has planned. Tell me more about it.”

Loki nodded slowly. This was how Sharewdia worked. She made you go through things slowly, taking note of the details, and breaking things down until they seemed more manageable.

“He arrived today, not too long before dinner. We had a meeting, with myself, Haewkyr and Th-Thor. He asked us to accompany him to the Barrier to travel beyond it on behalf of King Dorgen. I said yes. Haewkyr said yes. Thor said yes. I thought I was all right but now I can’t stop shaking. I don’t want to go anymore,” Loki said.

Sharewdia nodded. “I see. Is it the adventure that is making you anxious, or is it Thor?”

Loki bit his lip. “Both,” he admitted, “but mostly Thor. The thing is, I told him to go! He checked with me before agreeing and I nodded! Now I don’t know why I did that.”

“Have things been going well with Thor lately?” Sharewdia asked.

Loki nodded. “Very well actually, better than I thought they would. He’s fitting in well here, and we can talk together again, not about everything, but everyday things.”

“Are you concerned that being in such close quarters with him will perhaps force a discussion you don’t feel ready for?” Sharewdia asked.

“Maybe,” Loki admitted. “I don’t want to ruin what we have now, it’s so new. But I wanted him to go, I want him to get to know Musleen. One day Thor will be King, and Musleen *will* be King Dorgen’s right hand man, he already is, if they can get along then that can only be good for the future of *both* our realms.”

“So you are thinking of the future stability of two thrones?”

“Yes. I think Thor should go, but I won’t. I can’t-“

“Get past the ‘can’t’, Loki. You told me you wished to travel, this seems like a good way to ease into it. From what I can see you’re concerns are perfectly natural. You and Thor are talking, your nightmares have calmed a little in recent weeks, and you have begun to take control of your future. You are worried that this will change things for the worse, have you considered that it might change them for the better? Or that nothing will change at all? The important thing to remember is that this castle, and your family, are still here for when you get back. They are a safe harbour that you can come back to.”

Loki gripped the edge of his chair hard. “You think I should go?” he asked nervously.

“I will not make this decision for you, Loki, you have to do that. I will only remind you that, while worry and concern are natural, letting them overwhelm you is something you should be working against.”

Loki made a distressed noise and looked away from her, out of the window into the dark beyond.

“I want to go,” he said at last. “I’m not certain that I want to go with Thor. I think he should go for the sake of Asgard and Vanaheim. If I want to go, then I have to accept that he’ll be there.”

Sharewdia just waited patiently as he worked his way through his thoughts.

“I will go,” Loki said at last, still sounding unsure. “But I will be sleeping in my own tent. I can carry it myself, and I’m sure the castle has a few small ones lying about.”

Sharewdia nodded at him. “Very well, I think that sounds like a good compromise. Do you feel better now that the decision has been made?”

Loki pinched his lips together. “Yes,” he admitted after a minute. “Although not as good as I did this morning.”

“There will be good times and bad times, as we discussed,” Sharewdia said gently.

“So this is what a bad time feels like,” Loki said. “I don’t like them.”

“I don’t imagine you would, why don’t you tell me more about this trip? How long are you expected to be gone, is there anything they anticipate that will be out there?”

Loki explained the plans surrounding the expedition. He relaxed a little more as he spoke, especially as he broke down the travel into each planned day and realized that most of the time he would be in the group’s company, not just Thor’s.

“Thank you for seeing me so late,” he said, as he was leaving.

“That’s all right, Loki. Will I see you again before you leave? I believe we had a meeting scheduled for tomorrow afternoon?”

“Yes, I’ll come, thank you again,” Loki said.

He returned to his bedroom in a thoughtful state of mind. He was still feeling a little agitated, but also a little better about everything. 

At no point did he consider asking Thor to stay here.

Well no, this joint expedition would be good for Aesir-Vanir relations in the future, if Thor and Musleen could come to an understanding, maybe even a friendship.

Yes, true, but why is that important? Why do you care about the politics of Asgard? You’re never going to be involved in them. You’re still thinking like a queen.

“Shut up,” Loki whispered under his breath.

His thoughts could be so damn loud sometimes, it was a wonder other people couldn’t hear them.

They were right though, why did he care so much about Asgard when he’d given up being its queen?

Because Asgard is Thor’s, and everything that is Thor’s is worth caring about.

Frustrated over his traitorous heart, Loki punched his pillows into submission and tried to go to sleep.

****

The following day, Thor was testing out some of the horses when the cart arrived. It had been too slow to keep up with Musleen, and was one of the reasons why their trek across to the Barrier was expected to take a few days longer than normal.

It contained a doorway, currently in pieces, which would be assembled and pushed against the Barrier once they arrived. Seidr runes had been carved into it, allowing Loki to open a way through with minimal effort, and, hopefully, keep it held open without him having to remain there.

The symbols meant nothing to Thor’s eyes, but Loki read them and nodded confidently.

“Good work,” he said when he reached the end.

“Fiarstia and Luickyia did them,” Daenceia said. “They have quite the knack for runes.”

“Are they still at the Tower?” Loki asked.

“No, they left last year and have gone into business for themselves, protection and anti-robbery mostly,” Daenceia said.

Can you believe that Fiarstia was a street whore when she applied? It still amazes me how far they all go once they have the chance,” Loki said.

Thor listened to the conversation and tried not to feel left out. It was easy to forget, here in this castle with its massive fields all around, that Loki had led a life in Vanaheim. He’d visited places that Thor had never heard of, and knew people whom Thor did not know, and probably never would.

He pushed his feelings aside and headed to the training yard. He was *glad* Loki had managed some form of life here, after what Thor’d seen, anything that could have helped Loki was fine by him.

Haewkyr was in the training yard when Thor arrived. He was practicing his archery.

Thor picked up a bow and sighted down to one of the other targets. They would be hunting their own food and who-knows-what kind of game once they were on the other side. It did not hurt to hone their skills a little before leaving.

Haewkyr hit the ring just outside the centre of his target, so did Thor. Haewkyr hit it again on the other side, Thor hit just *inside* the centre circle. Haewkyr managed to hit his target a little closer than that. Thor hit the ring again and tried not to curse. Together they walked down to the targets and retrieved their arrows. 

“Good shot,” Haewkyr said.

“You too,” Thor said, trying to hide his disappointment.

He wanted to beat Haewkyr, it was a petty impulse, but he wanted to do it anyway.

They lined up again and began shooting, with much the same result.

“Not bad,” Loki called out from behind them as they lined up for a third time. 

They shared a glance between them, it was one hundred percent friendly and would flash-fry anything that got in the way.

“Ten coins to the man whose arrows hit closest to the centre,” Haewkyr said.

“You’re on,” Thor said immediately.

Behind them, Loki frowned in confusion. Both men suddenly seemed a lot more serious than he was used to seeing.

Haewkyr shot first, hitting just inside the center circle. Thor’s first shot was just outside, but Haewkyr’s second shot was a little wide, while Thor’s second came closest to the centre so far. Haewkyr lined his third shot up and got it inside the centre circle again. Thor scowled and took aim, hitting the line between the centre circle and the next outer ring.

Without warning three shots flew between both of them, hitting the center of the target one after the other.

“Ten coins each to me, whenever you’re ready,” Musleen said calmly, lowering his bow. “Loki, might I have a word?”

Without looking at the two men he led Loki away out of the training yard.

****

“What exactly is going on there?” Musleen asked as soon as they were out of earshot.

“I don’t know,” Loki said honestly. “Thor can be quite competitive, although Haewkyr usually isn’t. He is known for teasing people though, maybe he picked up on Thor's competitiveness and couldn’t help himself.”

“Maybe,” Musleen said. “But with both of them coming on this expedition I don’t want any trouble.”

Loki shook his head. “I’m sure it was just a little extra steam,” he said. “They’re probably just eager to get going.”

Musleen stayed silent, but the master of observation had observed rather more than the in-denial Loki.

“The doorway looks good,” Loki said, to change the subject. “It should hold beautifully once it’s activated.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Daenceia assured me of such, but without any magical background I really can’t tell,” Musleen said.

“Does it bother you? Not knowing things like that?” Loki asked, suddenly curious.

Musleen nodded. “I don’t like not knowing things in general, magic has always been an area in which I had to remain ignorant.”

“Because you don’t have it, or because you were not encouraged to pursue it?” Loki asked.

“Both. I have no talent for it, not even a mild one, and that Bastard had no respect for it other than as a hobby, he actually ordered me not to study it, not even when it could have helped with my investigations. I’ve had to rely on mages for years.”

“It’s a good thing you found some you could trust,” Loki said. “But now, surely, if you want to, you can learn the theory? Enough to recognise the more common curses?”

Musleen looked thoughtful. “It’s worth pursuing,” he said at last. “After these expeditions are over I will make a start. Perhaps you can recommend some good works for the novice?”

Loki nodded. “I’ll make you a list,” he said, “and no doubt Daenceia will add to it.”

“No doubt,” Musleen said. 

“Things seem to be going well with you two,” Loki commented.

“So far,” said the ever cautious Musleen. “These expeditions are something of a trial run for the trip over the High Mountains.”

Loki felt a smile come to his face, only small but it was there. Maybe he should view this trip the same way. If it went well, then Thor could come with him later on.

****

Lord Eadgleyr came to see Loki as he was packing.

“I have something for you, Loki dear,” he said, holding out his hand.

“What is it?” Loki asked.

“A communication device. I know, I know, it looks like a necklace. It was my mother’s once, a long time ago. She made it to talk to me when I moved here after I married. You remember me telling you how much I missed my home? Well, if you touch it and say my name, I’ll hear you. I thought that you might like it in case you want to talk to us, or maybe Sharewdia, while you were gone.”

Loki smiled gently. “Thank you,” he said. “I’ll take very good care of it.”

“I know you will, dear. I hope that you have a good time while you’re away,” Lord Eadgleyr said with a smile.

“I’ll certainly try to,” Loki said. “I did say that I wanted to travel.”

“I’ve no doubt you will have a great adventure,” Lord Eadgleyr said.

****

Musleen was feeling horribly unsteady. That might have something to do with the astride saddle he was trying to ride. 

There were occasions when Vanir horsemen would ride astride. In battle of course, and when jousting. Musleen had trained with the army and was an excellent jouster. But it had been centuries since he was last in the astride saddle, and jousting for sport was always a mad dash and a sudden crash. He was trying to trot and kept rising in the saddle as though he were about to unseat an opponent.

It didn’t help that he was wearing pants, and they chafed. 

Daenceia had broken out in the fit of giggles when she’d seen him, which was not encouraging.

What he hoped to achieve with this exercise was a certain change in mindset among his men. Side-riding was born out of necessity, given the robes that made up the bulk of Vanir-wear, but pants were *practical*, and now that there was no-one to raise an objection, Musleen was determined to see *how* practical.

So far it wasn’t going all that well. His habit of rising and leaning forwards had almost tumbled him out of the saddle multiple times, much the humour of his men, who were trying not to snigger.

There was another advantage to pants, and that was primarily to do with kicking. Musleen had studied the masters of weaponless fighting and been intrigued by the many ways one could take a man down. An awful lot of those ways involved using the legs. Vanir robes were just not freeing enough. Ironically, the wider skirts of the Vanir women were actually better for such a task.

Musleen wanted his guards to wear a new uniform, one that involved pants, and with them would carry a reputation for being almost impossible to beat.

For now, though, he’d settle for not squashing his manhood, *again*. It was quite hard to keep a straight face in front of your girlfriend when you’ve just squashed your intimate area for the third time in ten minutes.

Haewkyr came into the yard and watched him for a minute. He looked thoughtful, but didn’t say anything until Musleen decided he’d been squashed enough for one day and dismounted, fighting a sigh of relief.

“You need a proper horse-master to teach you the basics, your Grace,” Haewkyr said to him.

“Did you just volunteer?” Musleen asked.

“If you’ll have me,” Haewkyr said. “You weren’t doing *too* badly, although if I were you I think I’d be limping by now.”

Musleen very carefully did not react. He’d limp as soon as he was alone, and not a second sooner.

“Do you have room for an astride saddle in the cart? I can teach you while we travel,” Haewkyr asked.

Musleen thought about it. “I can make room, although it may slow us down.”

“No more than the cart, if you don’t mind me saying,” Haewkyr said. “Next time you try it let me know and I’ll give you a few tips. Is there any reason why you want to learn?”

Musleen raised an eyebrow, it did not do to give away every secret. “Intellectual curiosity,” he said and went to put the horse away.

****

The following morning Loki went down to the training yard with Thor’s knife and a set of other, plainer ones to practice his throwing. He spent about an hour hitting the centre of the target over and over, as his mind drifted back to the day before when Thor and Haewkyr had held their little competition.

It had been weird. They’d seemed to get along quite well the other times they’d been together, maybe Haewkyr was just riling Thor up for mischief. Loki’d have a word with him, Thor was trying quite hard at the moment; he shouldn’t be teased.

On the other hand, Loki didn’t want Haewkyr to think Thor was the kind of man who couldn’t take some light-hearted ribbing. Maybe he should say nothing.

And since when was it his concern anyway? He had no claim on Thor, Thor was a grown man who could fight his own battles, Loki should just stay out of it.

Haewkyr shouldn’t have teased him though. It wasn’t nice.

Thor would deal with, of course he would.

Loki gave a growl and threw his last knife into the centre of the target. His head was *full* of thoughts, and none of them agreed with any of the others. It was exhausting.

“You need more knives,” said Thor from behind him. “A proper set, not the training ones. They’re probably blunt anyway.”

“I’ll sharpen them before we go,” Loki said. “I’ve got time this evening.”

“Even so, you should have your own.”

“These are fine, Thor,” Loki said.

Thor let the matter drop, watching quietly as Loki hit the targets again and again, before leaving to go and do the last of his packing.

He got back to his rooms and wrote a letter to the weapons makers in Asgard, commissioning a set of perfectly balanced knives. Then he wrote one to his mother, explaining that they were going camping for approximately three weeks and that Loki seemed all right with him coming along, and asking her to take the other letter along to the weapons maker as soon as she had the chance. The money could come out of his savings, which were kept in the palace vaults anyway.

Loki deserved a set of proper weapons. Thor had been given Mjölnir at his coming of age, Loki had been given to a monster. Thor hadn’t spent any of his savings in the last two hundred and fifty years, what with being away from Asgard, so he could afford to spoil Loki.

Besides, friends bought one another presents all the time, didn’t they?

****

_Loki dreamed that he was at the Barrier. He was staring at it, trying to remember how to go through._

_“Come on, Loki, you’ve done this before,” Haewkyr said behind him._

_“Take you time, Loki, the fate of Vanaheim hangs in the balance,” added Musleen._

_Loki blinked hard as he saw a shadow behind the Barrier._

_“I don’t want to go in there,” he said._

_“We have to, we have to, we have to,” Haewkyr chanted._

_Loki took a step back. “I don’t want to, he’s waiting,” he said._

_The shadow was coming closer. It was the corpse of the King._

_It had rotted badly now, skin split in places and bits were falling off._

_Loki whimpered and tried to back away, but Haewkyr and Musleen pushed him forward._

_“Come on Loki! We need to get through,” Musleen said._

_“It’s Hel,” Loki said. “It’s a doorway to Hel.”_

_The King reached the Barrier, and for a second Loki relaxed as the King seemed to stumble into it and bounce off._

_Then the King looked right at him with his rotting eyes sockets and grinned._

_Loki screamed as the King reached through the Barrier and grabbed him._

_“Mine,” he hissed, and he pulled Loki back through the Barrier._

_Loki screamed again, only to be snatched out of the King’s hands and dragged back. His back hit something solid and he turned to see Thor, standing behind him and glaring out at the King._

_“Never,” Thor said in a voice that rang through the earth and sky._

_**“NEVER!”** _

Loki’s eyes snapped open to the crash of thunder. There was a storm outside. He waited a few minutes and the lightning vanished, although the rain did not. Thor had taken the bite out of it, he often did when he and his friends had plans the next day and needed their sleep.

Breathing deeply to calm himself, Loki rolled over and scanned the room for… he wasn’t really sure what. Satisfied that it was not there in any case, he closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep.

****

Odin was not having a good day. Ink had been following him for months now. The attacks had been fairly far apart, but lately they had been occurring more frequently and were growing in severity.

He was now in his study, alone. He didn’t like being alone these days. The Ink didn’t seem to strike him when he was in public, a fact that he had noted with interest.

A curse then, but not one to sabotage him politically. 

His mind drifted back to Loki. It had to connect back to Loki. Loki said he was being followed by invisible ink, and Odin was being followed by real ink. It couldn’t be a coincidence. 

Without warning Odin was lifted roughly from his chair and pushed, face down, over his desk. He struggled in alarm but there was nothing behind him. 

A slimy sensation appeared underneath his clothes, all over his anus.

With a great cry and an even greater effort, Odin managed to push himself away from the desk just as thin, boney fingers began to poke at his hole.

The room was empty and still. Not so much as a curtain had moved. But investigation with trembling hands revealed that his smallclothes were now filled with ink.

****

Early in the morning, Loki and the others ate their breakfast, checked the last of their packs, and rode away to the south east.

Lord Fallconyr watched them go from the castle window, his face lined with concern.

“Are you going to stand there until they come back?” Lord Eadgleyr asked him, giving him a hug from behind.

“Possibly,” Lord Fallconyr said. “I’m worried about that boy, he’s still so vulnerable.”

“I know, that’s why I gave him my mother’s necklace.”

“You did?”

“The day before yesterday. Loki is a strong man, yes he’s been through a lot but he needs to start finding his feet again. This will be good for him. He can stay in this castle until he is an old man, but that doesn’t mean he should.”

“I know,” Lord Fallconyr said, turning to face his wife. “I want him to be fine, very much so, but I think of how vulnerable he looked not one month ago and I worry.”

“He’s got Haewkyr with him, and Musleen, two good dependable men who care a great deal about him. Then there’s Thor of course, Thor’d hold back the realm if it meant keeping Loki safe.”

“It’s good to see them talking at least, and thankfully Thor doesn’t seem to be pushing things. I’d heard he could be impulsive, I have to confess I was worried about that.”

“Did it occur to you that you worry too much?” Lord Eadgleyr inquired with a fond expression.

“No Dear, I believe that is your job,” Lord Fallconyr responded. 

They shared a kiss in the corridor of equal parts comfort and love.


	40. Thirty Nine Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pants, and the Wearing Of

Loki was feeling more than a little trepidation. His nerves about the expedition had kept him awake for hours the night before, but now that they had finally set off he was feeling fairly optimistic. The group was travelling at a slower than normal pace, to allow the cart to remain with them, although this was also in part to Daenceia, who was still learning to ride long distances, and Musleen, who was once again riding astride.

Loki had to admit that he found the sight of Musleen in pants to be really strange, like when someone moves something in your room while you’re out. It was still him but… odd.

He wasn’t sitting right; he kept leaning forwards and then remembering to straighten up just before he fell. Loki saw Haewkyr ride up alongside him and give his riding a critical look over.

“You need to straighten up more, your Grace, that’s it, you’ll feel a little strange at first but you’ll get better with practice. Right, now, try not to curl your leg back like that, I know it’s natural if you’re side-riding but it’ll just throw you off balance if you do it here. Good, now try to hold that position while you ride, you’ll get the hang of it soon enough.”

Daenceia was watching them closely as well, too well as it turned out, because she wobbled in her own saddle and began to slip.

Loki reached out and steadied her before she could fall.

“A fine group of travellers we make,” he said with a smile, “Half of us can’t stay on our horses.”

“Thanks,” Daenceia said, resettling herself. “To be honest, as unsteady as Musleen is right now, you three look more stable.”

This comment was directed at Loki, Thor and Haewkyr, all of whom rode astride.

“It just depends on what you’re used to,” Loki said. “But I do prefer astride, myself.”

Musleen was doing a little better after obeying Haewkyr, and he risked a glance behind him at the cart and the men riding beside it.

“It’s easier to be unhorsed when riding side-on,” he said, “although it is also easier to dismount in a hurry.”

“Provided that you want to dismount on one particular side,” Loki pointed out.

“True,” Musleen conceded, still gripping his reins tightly as he rode, “that’s why I wish to learn both ways, there are benefits to both, and I want to know what they all are.”

“A good astride rider can learn to ride bareback,” Thor offered. “Side-riding is a lot harder to do without a properly designed saddle to sit in.”

“But a good side-saddle has better stability for anyone who’s lost a leg. Astride riding is almost impossible without some kind of special harness to help keep you on,” Haewkyr said. 

A faint look of annoyance passed over Thor’s face when Haewkyr spoke, but it was quickly covered.

“True,” he conceded.

Musleen was leaning forwards again, but corrected himself before Haewkyr could say anything.

“These pants are uncomfortable,” he said after a few minutes.

“I honestly think that is the first time I have ever heard you complain about anything trivial, ever,” Loki said, faking astonishment.

Musleen’s ears turned red. “Maybe I’m wearing them wrong,” he muttered.

“How can you wear pants wrong?” Haewkyr asked. “One leg in each hole, buttons up the front, or a lace-up rope, if you’re not planning to drink.”

“Not planning to drink?” Daenceia asked in confusion.

She looked between Loki, Thor and Musleen’s carefully blank faces in confusion.

“It’s more about what happens later that night when even just standing may be a problem,” Loki elaborated as Musleen stared straight ahead and Thor found a distant spot of trees fascinating.

Daenceia still looked bewildered, and Loki realized that, with the men in her life as well as the women all wearing skirts, she really wasn’t going to come to the conclusion on her own.

“Try getting a lace-up undone when rather drunk and in need of some bladder relief,” he said quietly.

“Oh,” Daenceia said, blushing. “I can see where buttons might be considered a blessing.”

“Haewkyr has a habit of speaking his mind,” Loki said, “although sometimes he ought to learn when to filter for company.”

“Hey!” Haewkyr protested. “There’s nothing wrong with involving her in the conversation! She’s not stupid.”

“No one ever said she was,” Loki said as Daenceia tried to hide her giggles. “There are just some things that should not be spoken of in front of an unmarried lady; it’s a matter of style.”

“I’ve only been wearing pants for five days now, give or take, and I can’t say I’ve taken to them,” Musleen said. “Regardless of whether they are buttons or lace-ups.”

“You just need a little more time to get used to them,” Haewkyr said. “Although I think those ones are a little tight for you.”

“I had them made by a tailor, but he hadn’t ever made them before, and so guessed at them based on some pictures he’d seen,” Musleen revealed.

“They do look a little tight around the legs,” Loki commented. Unseen beside him, Thor gripped his reins tighter and pretended to be fascinated by the road ahead. “Why didn’t you have Fosxyr make you some? He made some for me once,” Loki continued.

“He did? I should have asked him, but he’ll be away in the High Mountains before I get back,” Musleen said. “These ones feel far too confining around the thighs.”

Loki caught Thor’s eye and smiled at him. Thor’s face changed from serious to happy in an instant. Loki wondered what Thor had been thinking about to make him frown, but he didn’t want to draw attention to whatever it was in front of the others.

Once again his mind drifted to Thor and Haewkyr’s competition in the training yard. What the Hel was going on?

****

They reached a patch of fallow fields in the late afternoon, and Musleen, after checking with Haewkyr that this was indeed a good spot, announced that they would stop for the night.

Loki took down his tent and unrolled it nervously. He hadn’t told anyone yet that he planned to sleep alone.

It turned out, however, that he was not the only one. Daenceia had a tent to herself as well.

“Musleen insisted,” she said quietly to Loki as they set their tents up next to one another, “for modesty’s sake. Royalty can be a bit old fashioned, whereas us commoners can be much looser in our moral standing, because we don’t have any.”

“That’s rubbish and you know it,” Loki said, hammering the last tent peg home.

Daenceia smiled at him, a little sadly. “I was so afraid before our first night together, in case he rejected me for not being a virgin,” she whispered. “But he didn’t even react, of course, he often doesn’t,” she added with a frown, “but we’re still together, so I’m assuming he’s all right with it.”

“Of course he is,” Loki said. “You shouldn’t have even worried; he’s far too good of a man to reject you for something like that… err… when did you…?”

Daenceia laughed. “Before you met me, before I went to the Tower to learn. I had a sweetheart whose heart turned out to not be as sweet as I thought. Many girls do when they’re young and foolish.”

Loki felt the side of his mouth curl up in a half-smile. “I *think* I remember being young once,” he joked.

There was a loud bang from behind them and they both jumped. Thor had lit the campfire with lightning.

“I would have done that,” Loki called out.

“You were busy,” Thor called back, and look it’s going quite well.”

“He used to blow the campfire up,” Loki said to Daenceia in a mock scandalised tone. “Sticks everywhere, it was madness.”

She giggled and grabbed her pack, throwing it carelessly inside her tent. “You two would have had many adventures growing up I’m sure,” she said.

Now Loki smiled properly. “We got into our fair share of mischief,” he said.

Haewkyr had pulled some bread, cheese and dried rabbit meat out of the cart and started cutting it up for dinner. Musleen was finishing putting up the last of the big tents. There were two, each one held up to four men, five at a pinch. The four men driving and escorting the cart had taken over one tent, leaving the other for Musleen, Haewkyr and of course Thor. 

Neither of them appeared to have noticed this yet.

Loki and Daenceia went for a walk to collect more firewood. Three wasn’t much in the fields themselves, although a line of low trees marked the boundary between two of them, so they headed over there as the sun began to set.

“Thor seems nice,” Daenceia said as they walked.

Her tone, however, was slightly unsure.

“He’s more serious than I remember,” Loki said. His mind flashed to the things Thor said he had seen. “But perhaps he has grown up more,” he added, knowing that he was understating it.

“There’s nothing wrong with a serious man,” Daenceia said. 

“No,” Loki said with a teasing tone, “although I have *seen* Musleen laugh, one hundred and forty years ago I believe, in the summer, on a Frig’s Day.”

“Stop it,” Daenceia said, laughing. “He’s not as bad as that.”

“No he’s not, although I think he’s a lot better than he used to be,” Loki said, “and I think you have had a lot to do with that.”

Daenceia blushed in the fading light.

“He wants to take me to the Falls of the Spritefolk,” she said. “And to the lagoon in the cavern beneath the Falls, he says they’re both amazing, and one of his favourite places.”

“They are incredible,” Loki said.

They had reached the trees, and he judged them to be far enough away now.

“Did you know that my Father has been cursed?” he asked, scanning Daenceia for any sign of involvement.

“What?! How could that have happened? Is he all right?” She paused, and, with a slightly hesitant manner, continued, “Are you… upset?”

“No, I’m not upset,” Loki said. “I *want* him to suffer for what happened to me, I was just wondering if you knew anything about it?”

She frowned, “No, but maybe Musleen has heard something from, uh, his friends, in Asgard, um, he does have friends you know!”

“Yes and they’re called spies. I know that, and I don’t care. Asgard has Heimdall keeping an eye on *everything*, do you really think he doesn’t occasionally make reports about the goings on in Vanaheim? Musleen’s just evening the score,” Loki said.

Daenceia gave a kind of half shrug. “I suppose, as long as you’re not angry about it. I know you have loyalty to Asgard.”

‘Not as much as you might think,’ Loki thought, ‘But more than *you* thought,’ his thoughts bounced back at him.

“I was just wondering, if maybe, you see, possibly, if you had a hand in helping?” he asked, knowing from her face as he asked the question that the answer was already ‘no’.

“No, Loki, I couldn’t! That’s attacking a *King*, I couldn’t do that! Although, after what he did to you, I wish I *could* do that to him,” she said, her eyes narrowing in uncharacteristic spite.

Loki grabbed a fallen branch and reached for another one. There weren’t many in the well-maintained fields.

“So you were never asked about any kind of curse by anyone?” he clarified.

“No one, Loki, I promise,” she said.

Well that was one person struck from the list. 

It was probably Mother, although she hadn’t *seemed* as though she knew what was going on the last time he’d seen her, and she’d known that Odin blamed him. Surely she would have said something to stop Odin from dragging him off and accusing him of causing it?

It was quite the puzzle.

Loki and Daenceia grabbed as many branches as they could find and headed back to the campsite, where Haewkyr and Thor had discovered the sleeping arrangements, and were subsequently being overly polite to one another as some kind of special new type of warfare.

Loki frowned as he watched them sit on opposite sides of the fire.

What the Hel was wrong with them both? He really wished he knew, but he couldn’t just come out and ask them here, surrounded as they were by witnesses.

Loki very deliberately sat down next to Daenceia, with Musleen settled on her left. The other men joined them at the campfire and Haewkyr handed out their dinner.

“I do not believe any introductions have taken place yet,” Musleen said as they began to eat. “This man on my left is our soil expert, Laindyr Oweneren, he will be assessing the soil on the far side of the barrier. This man here” – he indicated a small man with sandy blond hair and a snub nose – “is Gruangeyr Raungeen, he is our surveyor and will map the area we explore, as well as determine where Lord Fallconyr’s lands’ end and the un-owned territory begins.”

“No danger there, they were fenced in once upon a time, I know there’s been a lot of growth, but the perimeter fences were in stone, we should find the remains still standing in most places,” Haewkyr volunteered.

“That’ll be a great help,” Musleen said. “This here is Burtchen Sloiceen, the cart-man,” – eyes turned to Burtchen, who had worked for Musleen for centuries, although in a capacity that was never accurately defined. He stared at them each in turn while playing with his knife – “and lastly, this is Burildyr Gatteen, he’s going to build our gate when we get to the Barrier and then stay behind to see that it stays up. Men, this is Prince Thor of Asgard, Prince Loki of Asgard, and Sir Haewkyr Owelyrson of the Fallconyr estates, Lord Fallconyr being the man who kindly agreed to let us take a shortcut through his lands,” Musleen finished.

There was a certain amount of nodding and acknowledgement from everyone – Burtchen gave them all another glare – before they turned back to their meals.

Loki crawled into his tent fairly early. He was tired after the day’s ride, but more importantly, he did not want to be around when Haewkyr and Thor tried to sleep.

To his surprise they were both polite and, with only the normal amount of jostling for two big men sharing a tent, managed to settle down to sleep.

Perhaps that had something to do with Musleen, who was almost certainly sleeping between them, or perhaps they just got along better when Loki wasn’t around.

He wished they could all be friends. He *wanted* Thor to like Haewkyr and vice versa, but for some reason they were in competition with one another.

It seemed that Thor was *slightly* more in competition than Haewkyr was, although Haewkyr’s natural desire to stir up trouble wasn’t helping.

Glad that, for tonight at least, there appeared to be no problems, Loki drifted off to sleep. 

****

Halfway through the next day, Burtchen suddenly called out to the riders in front that they were being followed. Indeed, there was dust on the horizon and it looked as though some riders were heading their way.

Musleen’s eyes narrowed, his concern would be for the King. Haewkyr frowned, immediately worrying about his grandparents. Loki frowned, thinking along the same lines, or perhaps something to do with Odin and the curse? Thor frowned, because Loki was frowning, although his thoughts too went rapidly through all that could be wrong.

“Haewkyr, do you know who tends the fields out here?” Musleen asked.

“Yes, and they live further north, they shouldn’t be coming down that road,” Haewkyr said. “They’re quite a way away, they should catch us by nightfall, unless you want to turn back to meet them?”

Musleen thought it over. “No,” he said at last, “if it’s urgent, they’d be communicating directly.”

Loki saw him pull a small device from a chain around his neck. It was similar in function to Lord Eadgleyr’s necklace, although Musleen’s was clearly more functional in style. There weren’t any flower patterns on it *anywhere*.

They kept riding. Musleen was back in the astride saddle, he was doing better than the day before, although Loki had seen him try to walk early in the morning, and all he could say was that it was a good thing Daenceia missed it.

He’d been so moved by Musleen’s plight that he’d lent him a pair of his pants, ones that were a bit looser in the leg and didn’t chafe quite so much.

After a few more minutes of riding, Thor came up beside Loki and flashed him a smile.

“I had noticed,” he said in a quiet tone, “that Prince Musleen is missing two fingers on his right hand, and I was wondering how he fares in fighting, given that his ability to shoot appeared to be first rate.”

“He’s had a lot of practice,” Loki informed Thor, equally quietly. “He lost his fingers in a revenge attack many years ago now. He and I were caught in a magical avalanche; we were found and dug out by our attackers. He lost his little finger to the snow and they cut off the pointer to send to the King.”

“Did they harm you?” Thor asked. His eyes scanned Loki as though he expected to see signs of damage still on him.

“No, I was almost frozen to death, but *someone* warmed me up,” Loki said with a significant look at Thor.

Realisation came over Thor’s face. “I remember that night,” he said. “You were in my arms, you were so cold.”

“I was, and then I wasn’t. Your warmth kept me alive and able to move, as a result I was able to fight off our attackers. They were both killed, and Haewkyr was able to find us using the wolves.”

Too late Loki realised that he’d said Haewkyr’s name. Thor’s smile became just a little *too* fixed, but what he *said* was, “Thank goodness for that.”

“Musleen learnt to fight with his left. He still shoots with the right but he holds the arrow all wrong, at least, wrong for everyone else. He made it work for him,” Loki finished.

“I saw,” Thor said.

“I helped him train,” Loki said, keeping his tone light. “We learnt to use our left hands together.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you can defeat an opponent with either hand?” Thor asked.

“Maybe,” Loki said almost playfully.

“I’ll have to try you out,” Thor said.

Loki felt a grin come to his face. He hadn’t sparred in a while, not since Fandral, over three months ago. Training alone may keep your reflexes sharp, but it just wasn’t the same.


	41. Forty Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Trouble With Cousins

Loki was enjoying himself, mostly. The long hours of riding took him back to his youth with Thor, when they and their friends would go out hunting for days without a care in the world. 

The only problem appeared to be between Thor and Haewkyr, who were both still acting strange. 

*Why* couldn’t they get along? They were so alike! Loki had felt certain that they would hit it off immediately, instead Thor was guarded and Haewkyr was antagonising, it was enough to make Loki want to scream.

So he did his best to avoid them. He spoke with Daenceia as they rode, discussing the Tower and their friends there; things that neither Thor nor Haewkyr had anything to do with, and so couldn’t join in.

He spent some time getting to know Burtchen as well. He had been Musleen’s right-hand-man for a long time. On Progress he had been left behind to carry out Musleen’s duties in his absence, which placed him in a rare position of trust.

He was naturally cagey about revealed too much of himself, but Loki managed to determine that he was a commoner through his mother who had been a maid in the palace, and that his father had been a noble, although which one his mother had apparently never said.

“Wouldn’t have changed my life any,” Burtchen said of the subject.

Loki knew quite a few of the nobles of the court very well after living there for so long. He tried to look Burtchen over without being caught. He had a straight nose, clear blue eyes and…

“It was the King, wasn’t it,” Loki said flatly.

Burtchen’s face curled up in a smile.

“Close, your Grace, close, it was his brother, or so I’ve heard. Never been acknowledged and never wanted to be. I like my head on its shoulders.”

“He wouldn’t have?” Loki asked, shocked.

“Breaveen? No, probably not, but the other one? *He* wouldn’t want a challenger walking about, not even one so far down the line as I am. Even not being witnessed at birth wouldn’t have stopped *him* if he was in the mood.”

Loki nodded, he knew that very well.

“Did you know before you met Musleen or did he tell you?” Loki asked.

Burtchen grinned, making his scars move. “My young cousin over there was very informative, Mother then filled in the rest with a series of nods and winks, although she’s still never actually *said*.”

Loki had to smile at that. 

“How many, uh, ‘missing royals’ are there about?” he asked.

Burtchen shrugged. “Including me? Four that his Grace knows about, all Breaveen’s. The King was surprisingly faithful for such a bastard.”

Loki couldn’t suppress his shudder.

“Yes he was,” he said. “I’d wish that he hadn’t been but that would have just spread the horror of him around.”

Burtchen gave him a look of sympathy before leaning over and saying in a low voice, “My Lord almost did it, you know, your Grace, he almost decided to kill the King, but it wouldn’t have been lawful, and he’d have hung for it after, he wouldn’t have given King Dorgen a choice in the matter, he’d have hung himself if the new King refused, for breaking the law.”

Loki was shocked. _Musleen_ had almost committed regicide? 

Burtchen gave Loki solemn nod and kept riding, leaving him sitting in the saddle with his thoughts racing.

****

It was getting dark and they were setting up camp when their followers finally caught up with them.

There were four riders, Fomalen and three of his men.

“Cousin,” he said, greeting Musleen warmly.

Musleen was more reserved, his eyes scanned over the men behind Fomalen carefully, noting their weapons and the way they stood. They had all ridden astride, including Fomalen, although after so many years in Asgard that was hardly surprising. He looked strange wearing pants though after the glittering robes he wore at the coronation, but then Musleen supposed that he must look very strange at the moment as well, doing the same. Fomalen’s companions might just be common guards, but they were common guards from Asgard, and why take so many through an ally’s lands?

“Cousin,” Musleen said, returning the greeting.

Fomalen reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a letter. “I’ve come from King Dorgen, he has a letter for you, asking if I might join your expedition,” he said.

“And why would you wish to do that?” Musleen asked, taking the letter and carefully breaking the seal.

“Now that things have improved for the successful trader, I’ve been thinking of setting up a few weapons-factories back home, but you know what it’s like, trying to organise weapons manufacture, no one wants it right next to them, do they? If it’s not the security risk it’s the noise, banging away all day and night. I asked his Majesty if I might come along and scope out some new land, being the youngest son and all I have none of my own,” Fomalen said, rocking slightly on his feet. “Although it is with the understanding that the crown has first pick of course.”

Musleen read the letter, it had been sealed with a small amount of his brother’s magic so that only he may have opened it. Inside, Dorgen wrote:

_Brother,_

_As much as I loathe the little twerp, he is wealthy to the point of extravagance and has agreed to finance the main road between any new land we claim and the capital, provided that he has a place to put his weapons factory. Please let our dear cousin come along and have a look at what’s out there. I will find a way to make it up to you later._

_Dorgen_

“My brother has indeed given his consent,” Musleen said calmly pocketing the letter. He’d destroy it on the fire as soon as it was burning higher. “I do hope that you have brought your own tents and equipment? We were not planning for extra people.”

“Indeed we did, cousin, indeed we did. My men have everything that we require,” Fomalen said, smiling broadly. “Including extra food so that we would not put you out, are you preparing dinner?”

“I’m doing it tonight,” Burtchen said from somewhere near the campfire. “Hand over your goods and I’ll make enough for everyone.”

To Loki’s ear Burtchen’s ‘hand over your goods’ sounded more like a highwayman threat than an offer of hospitality, but then he was known more for his knife-work than for his cooking.

Fomalen’s men handed over their food packs. There was certainly a lot of food. It seemed that Fomalen was not a fan of going without luxury.

Musleen made introductions, and Loki saw Fomalen’s face light up when he was introduced to Thor.

“Your Grace, it is such a pleasure to meet you, I have attended the court of Asgard many happy times, but alas never got the chance to be introduced.”

“A shame I am certain,” Thor said in his ‘Prince’ voice. “Your weapons are used by most of Asgard’s army, surely you have met my father once or twice?”

“Indeed, your Grace, at the yearly army budgeting council,” Fomalen said, “although I could hardly claim to know him.”

He was just as eager to meet Loki, clasping his arm tightly and smiling broadly. “Oh yes, our visitor for so many years; it seemed like a rather extreme exchange program, but such is the will of Kings.”

Haewkyr stiffened behind Loki, but Loki managed to smile politely and mutter something bland. Fomalen wasn’t to know, most people had no idea, and Loki was still caught between wanting to scream it from the rooftops and wanting to bury the truth forever.

Fomalen was no less enthusiastic to meet the rest of the expedition, certainly, despite his lack of awareness of other people’s personal space, he had no problem talking to, and eating with, commoner men. He was also very polite to Daenceia, even after he found out that she was not, as most of the court still believed, of foreign noble stock. 

In short, he was annoying, but hard to actually *hate*.

His tent, when it was set up, was expansive and far too big to be necessary. He seemed surprised that Musleen was bedding down with two others, indeed, he had provided a tent for each of his men.

“It’s more efficient,” Musleen explained. “Once man can put up the tent while the others fix the fire or do some cooking; a tent each is time to put up and time to pack away.”

“I see, I see, do you like camping, cousin?” Fomalen asked.

Musleen nodded. “It has a great deal to recommend it,” he said.

“I was never much for it, growing up, but then my father used to make us run twenty miles every day to build stamina,” he patted his belly theatrically. “Poor Horrseen gave it up the second he entered the Tower, Woalfen and I were trapped for a bit longer.”

“Uncle Breaveen was quite the military man,” Musleen said, “a fierce general.”

“And a good father,” Fomalen said quickly, “just a little… dedicated. Well cousin, you are welcome to join me in my tent if you’d like a little extra space. There’s plenty of room, and your friends will probably thank you.”

Musleen appeared to think about it, his eyes tracked over where Thor and Haewkyr sat opposite one another, again.

“Perhaps you’re right, cousin,” he said. “It seems silly to squash up like that when space is available. But we’ll have to see how easily we can move with all this. If it’s too cumbersome then we’ll have to leave some behind.”

“Of course, cousin, of course,” Fomalen said, smiling cheerfully.

It was time, Musleen felt, for Thor and Haewkyr to work out their differences.

****

Thor and Haewkyr didn’t realise that Musleen had switched his sleeping place until they were ready to turn in, then, all of a sudden, things became tense.

Loki had turned in before them again, wanting to avoid witnessing any fireworks, so it was just the two of them as they crawled inside and made themselves comfortable.

“Long day,” Haewkyr said in the silence.

“Indeed,” Thor said in response, his tone was carefully polite.

Haewkyr tapped his fingers against his thighs for a moment before speaking again.

“Musleen was riding better, I thought.”

“Yes, he’s a quick learner. Loki told me that he is quite the fighter as well,” Thor said.

The mention of Loki’s name made the darkness seem darker.

“He’d know, they became good friends during Loki’s time here,” Haewkyr said.

More silence, more darkness.

“And you? When did you become friends with Loki?” Thor asked with an edge in his voice.

Haewkyr scowled in the darkness. He felt, that under different circumstances, that he would probably like Thor, but Thor had been pushing him lately, more and more, ever since Thor and Loki started talking again, in fact.

What had they said to one another that was making Thor act this way?

“We met in his first year here. He came to visit his family and I took him riding astride for the first time in months. Why do you want to know?”

“I just want to know more about you, seeing as Loki holds you in such high regard,” Thor said.

Haewkyr blinked in the darkness, he had not been expecting such a reasonable answer.

“I’m your cousin, your Grace, I’m family, I watched Loki suffer and I was banned from trying to help him, mostly be Loki himself. He did not wish to jeopardise his future with you. Now I am trying, with limited success I might add, to help him heal after what he’s been through.”

Thor shuffled into a better position in the darkness. “He has suffered greatly,” he said.

“More than you know,” Haewkyr said, a little shortly.

To be honest he was annoyed. Thor was *it* in Loki’s eyes, no amount of support, friendship or charisma was going to change that, a fact that Haewkyr could reluctantly accept, but it still rankled that Thor *hadn’t been there*, hadn’t *seen* it, and still he was the only one Loki could see.

“I know more than you think,” Thor shot back.

“Did you live through it with him?” Haewkyr asked, his blood rising.

“I *saw* it all in the Norns’ spinning wheel,” Thor snapped. “I saw his *future* with that bastard, I saw him *die*, I saw *you* die, and the lovely young Daenceia out there, *she* died, you *all* died for the wrath of the King, and I changed it, I changed *everything*, so don’t you tell me that I don’t know, _I know_.”

Silence reigned in the tent.

“I believe I have underestimated you, your Grace,” Haewkyr said at last. “And for that I’d like to apologise.”

Thor pinched his lips together in the darkness. He wanted to hate the man, but Haewkyr just made it so damn hard to do so.

“I think ‘Thor’ is more appropriate, your brothers have already started calling me that,” he said. He was silent for a moment before speaking again. “Do you know what Loki said to me? When we spoke in the flower fields?”

“He didn’t say.”

“He told me that he wants to focus on healing himself.”

“That’s good.”

“And that even if he does, he doesn’t want to be the queen of Asgard.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

“I can see how that would be a problem,” Haewkyr said.

“I’ve been thinking about solutions to the problem, but Loki and I don’t have any first cousins, or second, or even third, through Odin’s line. In fact, you have to go back quite a way to find our royal next of kin. We weren’t all that good at having multiple children, over the generations. It prevented a lot of civil wars but has left us with a dearth of relations to pass the crown onto in the event of a succession crisis.”

“So if you give up the throne, and Loki gives up the throne, who gets it?” Haewkyr asked.

There was a long silence in the tent.

“Dorgen,” Thor said at last. “Our nearest relation in the line of Aesir royals is King Dorgen of Vanaheim, through Bor’s grandfather’s grandfather.”

“Ah,” Haewkyr said. “That sort of screws everything right up.”


	42. Forty One Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting to Know One Another

They reached the Barrier after seven days of travel. For the most part it was uneventful, although Thor and Haewkyr seemed to be getting along a little better, much to Musleen’s relief. Fomalen remained mildly annoying, although he had enough saving graces to prevent himself from truly being hated, and Burtchen had insinuated himself into Fomalen’s group of guards, as making friends was very important to him, or so he claimed.

They had arrived south of the settlement that Loki and Haewkyr had visited last time. Thor had been mildly disappointed not to see it, but the expedition had a different focus and could not detour.

They set up the gate, with Burildyr taking the lead. By the end of the day the gate was standing tall and ready to be pressed against the Barrier. 

Loki took a deep breath and stepped forward, he hoped that this would work and that they hadn’t come all this way for nothing. He’d had a nightmare last night as well, the first since he left, and had wound up tearing through the bottom of his tent while thrashing about.

He’d dreamed that the King was trying to pull him into the sky where the burial ship was floating serenely; he’d been trying to claw his way back down when he’d woken to find dirt under his fingernails and his tent floor in shreds.

“Loki, it’s late, we’re not going through until tomorrow anyway,” Daenceia said. “You don’t have to do it now.”

Loki shook his head. “I want to; this gate has to stay open for up to three weeks without me here. If I cast it now, then we can see how it holds up overnight while I’m sleeping.”

Musleen nodded. “That’s sensible, let’s push the gate to the Barrier.”

Thor took one side and Haewkyr took the other. Together they pushed the gate against the Barrier, where it crackled around the edges.

Loki took a deep breath and concentrated. 

He could see the magic, see it glowing brightly in front of him. He reached out and pushed his magic into the Barrier, forcing it back to the borders of the gate and locking it in place with the help of the runes.

Loki relaxed and turned around. It was done, the gate was open. He could still see the magic shining in his vision. Daenceia had a soft glow about her, as did Thor and Haewkyr, although theirs was tinted with green, Musleen had a bright glow on his chest where his communication device was hanging, and Fomalen too had the slight glow of someone with magical ability.

Then the light faded and the world was once again lit only by the light of the fire.

“Excellent,” Musleen said, admiring the gateway. “We’ll see how it holds up overnight, but for now, Loki, I want you to eat something and then get some rest, you look tired.”

Loki nodded, he hoped he wouldn’t have another nightmare tonight. The last few nights without one had felt wonderful, and the Ink was… less intense somehow out here, surrounded as he was by wide spaces and fresh air. He felt as though he left it on the ground each morning when he bathed, and he was better at ignoring it when it suddenly seemed to return at odd moments.

He hadn’t called on Sharewdia yet. He was rather proud of that, and he hoped very much that he could continue. He wanted to be able to say that he spent up to five whole weeks away without losing control of himself. It would certainly be a good start to his future travel plans.

For now he sat down and enjoyed his dinner. There had been little to hunt in the fields, although once they left those behind them they had managed to catch a few small animals to supplement their packed food. Musleen was hoping that there would be bigger game on the other side of the Barrier, otherwise they would be eating dried rabbit meat for the whole trip.

Fomalen was talking to Daenceia, describing his house in Asgard. It sounded very grand and full of luxury, and ended with him inviting her to visit him should she ever find herself in the area.

“That invitation extends to you as well, cousin,” he said cheerfully. “I will show you all around my estate.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Musleen said, sounding one hundred percent sincere, which almost certainly meant he wasn’t. “One day, when we’re not so busy, perhaps King Odin will grant us leave to have a holiday there.”

“He surely wouldn’t refuse you, not when King Dorgen has been so kind as to extend an invitation to his sons?” Fomalen asked.

“Who knows what Kings are like,” Musleen said evenly, “but I’m sure one day we will be able to visit.”

Fomalen went off on another tangent, this time describing the grounds of his estate in minute detail. Daenceia’s smile became slowly fixed and glassy as he chatted away.

Loki yawned hugely and then apologised, breaking Fomalen’s flow.

“I’m so sorry, it’s been a long day and I’m very tired, I think I ought to turn in, what about you Daenceia? You are still not used to the saddle, you must be very tired.”

Daenceia nodded immediately. “I think turning in is wise,” she said. “Tomorrow we enter the unknown.”

They both bid goodnight to everyone and retreated to their respective tents. 

“He’s a talker,” Loki said to Daenceia quietly as they reached the entrances.

“He’s… nice, a little proud of his things, but doesn’t seem like a bad man,” she said, just as quietly.

Back at the fire Musleen gave a stretch and commented that he’d turn in too. “I want to be up early,” he said, “We should be underway as the sun rises. We have no idea what we’ll find on the other side and the last thing I want is to be stumbling around looking for a good campsite as the light fades.”

“Good point, cousin, I shall turn in too,” Fomalen said, rising and bustling off to his tent.

The others began heading off to their tents as well. Musleen made sure the fire was safe and then headed to bed as well.

Fomalen was already in his sleeping roll. He gave Musleen a smile as he entered, before the flap of the tent closed and blocked out the light of the fire. 

“Big day tomorrow, very exciting,” he said as Musleen pulled his tunic and pants off in the dark and crawled into his own sleeping roll.

“Yes, I hope we are successful. It will mean many more expeditions if we are,” Musleen said.

“I heard that there were ancient settlements out there, far beyond even our old borders,” Fomalen said. “Some of them filled with treasure.”

Musleen allowed himself the luxury of an eye-roll in the dark.

“I’ve heard similar stories, although I think they are rather fanciful, what kind of a people would leave behind great treasure? And why wouldn’t they return for it when the danger had past? I believe the treasure in question is a metaphor for history, our history.”

“You may be right cousin, you may very well be right, but there are plenty of people who would be happy to finance exploration teams to go and look for it.”

“You?”

“Oh no, cousin, I have my business, I need no treasure to be wealthy, and I have heard that a man’s wife is his true treasure, if he chooses appropriately of course. I will aim for that I think. Much better than wasting what money you have on a fanciful dream.”

“Do you have anyone in mind to be your wife?” Musleen asked, suddenly curious. His files had made no reference to Fomalen having made a romantic connection.

“Not as such, your Grace, although there is someone who caught my eye at the coronation. It had been years since I last laid eyes on him and he’s turned into quite an appealing young man. After this venture I will make a few discrete enquiries and hope for the best,” Fomalen said.

Musleen raised his eyebrows in surprise. “And what will you do if he is unavailable?” he asked.

“Comfort myself with a good liqueur and move on, it is only a fancy at this moment, I am hardly going to be broken hearted,” Fomalen said.

“That sounds extremely sensible,” Musleen said, wriggling a little to get comfortable.

“Well, one of us three brothers has to be, Horrseen ran away to do magic and married for love, Woalfen… has his own likes and dislikes, I am the only one left.”

Musleen wondered whether Fomalen would notice that he’d classified ‘marrying for love’ as a strange thing to do, given that Dorgen and Camtan had both done so, and Musleen himself was quite possibly well on his way to doing the same.

But of course Dorgen and Camtan had still married nobles, only Musleen was crazy enough to think of marrying a *commoner*.

When did he become the wild one of the family? Had anyone else noticed?

Struck by the sudden thought, Musleen bit his lip in an effort not to laugh. Oblivious to his thoughts, Fomalen wished his cousin goodnight and turned over to get some sleep.

****

Odin woke from his slumber with a groan. He’d barely slept the last few nights, in fear of being attacked by the curse once again. Groa and Eir had both been confided in eventually and they had given him a cleansing draught, but it had done nothing. They were now working on finding something stronger to try and break the curse. Whoever had cast it knew what they were doing. It didn’t seem to use much power, according to Groa, but it was *very* well put together, and breaking it was going to be very difficult.

In the meantime he just had to live through it.

Groaning from lack of sleep, Odin stumbled to his bathroom to bathe. He saw that there was ink in the tub and moaned in defeat. It was here again, it was always here. No matter how many times he washed it down the drain, it *always* came back.

He shut his eyes tightly and waited for the next part. He hated the next part, but there was no fighting it, at least, not until it started.

Sure enough, thin, bony fingers began stroking his hair, before travelling down his body to brush over his thighs.

Odin opened his eyes and spun, swinging out an arm as he did so.

He connected with nothing; he was alone, as always.

He stood there frozen for a moment, breathing heavily as he waited to see if it was really gone.

He *could* fight it, he *could* resist. The curse wasn’t so scary now that he knew what it was doing.

Odin straightened up and went to the sink to wash his face.

The sunken, rotted face of the old King looked back at him. Odin stared at it in horror as it spotted him and smiled.

 _“Call me Husband,”_ it said as a part of its upper lip fell off.

Odin screamed and fell back away from mirror, crashing to the floor and scrambling away.

From beneath him the Ink came bubbling up, sticking to his body and trying to pull him down.

There was a noise in his bedroom as his guards came running. Odin struggled to pull himself free as they burst through the door – 

– the Ink was gone, he was sitting on the floor of his bathroom without so much as a stain. Even the bath was empty.

“Are you all right, your Majesty?” one of the guards asked.

Odin froze. He couldn’t tell them. He couldn’t tell them anything, how would it look for them to know that he’d been cursed? He had to keep it as secret as possible.

“I’m fine, thank you,” he said, pulling himself up from the floor. “I slipped on the tiles.”

The guards very wisely did not challenge this assertion, and Odin dismissed them as quickly as he could.

He had to find a way to get rid of it. It was clearly connected to Loki and his time in Vanaheim, Loki was the link in the chain. Somehow, Odin had to get Loki back to Asgard.


	43. Forty Two Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Articulation of a Great Fear

The other side of the Barrier was heavily overgrown; trees had managed to grow where the old fields used to be, turning the whole place into a forest.

Their chosen path took them along one of the old cart-roads, which Lord Fallconyr had used to cart goods back and forth. Because it had been laid with cobblestone the trees had encroached less, and they were able to take the horses, albeit as pack animals while they travelled on foot.

Loki led Lightning and tried to quietly console the horse about the lack of running.

“You’ll be fine, sometime you run, sometimes you can’t. I’ll take you for a nice gallop when this is over, all right?” he said.

Lightning snorted in an undignified manner, if a horse could ever be said to be dignified.

Haewkyr had not bothered to lead his horse, it simply followed him like a hunting dog as he scouted ahead.

“This road runs through the whole land, and it should end at a gate at the other end,” he said. 

“What used to be out of the gate?” Loki asked.

“Nothing,” Haewkyr said. “Grandfather’s lands were on the edge of the realm.”

“So why have a gate?” Loki and Musleen asked at the same time.

Haewkyr frowned in puzzlement. “I have no idea,” he said. “Grandfather said there was nothing beyond, I didn’t think to ask why he built a gate there. I should have.”

“No harm done,” Thor said, surprising Loki, “We’ll find out what’s there when we get there. Whatever it was, it should be broken down and overgrown by now anyway.”

There was no arguing with his logic, so the party continued on their way, carefully picking their way through the growth that surrounded them.

Loki, Thor, Haewkyr and Musleen all had their bows out, but the noise being made by Fomalen was far too loud for any game to come their way.

“So sorry,” he said for the fourth time as he crashed through yet another build-up in growth. “I’m afraid I’m rather unused to this kind of travel.”

Musleen’s face remained impassive as he said, “Perhaps Haewkyr, Loki and Thor might go on ahead a little way and try to hunt. I will stay here with the main group.”

Haewkyr nodded in acknowledgement and put a hand to his horse. It turned and looked at Musleen, then snorted and walked over to follow him instead. Haewkyr did the same with Thor’s horse and then approached Lightning, who darted away to follow Musleen before Haewkyr could reach him.

“I knew he was a smart one,” Haewkyr said. “Come on, we’ll find something up further.”

Loki followed him along the path, with Thor following close behind. They lost the others quite quickly, before fanning out slightly and going silent, bows at the ready.

There *was* game to be had in the forest. It took almost an hour to get far enough ahead to find it, but it was there.

It was a deer. Loki had a clear line of fire, so he brought his bow up in silence. Beside him, Thor was so still as to be stone, and Haewkyr had almost vanished into the undergrowth.

Loki fired. The shot hit the deer in the neck and it tried to bolt. Loki, Thor and Haewkyr tore after it, but within minutes it had fallen from blood loss. Loki quickly took his knife and sliced its throat, ending its suffering.

“Well that’s dinner taken care of,” Haewkyr said. “Let’s go and find the others again. Good shot, Loki.”

Thor clapped Loki on the shoulder in acknowledgement as well, before they knelt to bind the deer’s legs so that it could be more easily carried.

“I’ll take it,” Thor said, reaching for the deer.

“I can carry it,” Haewkyr said with a slight frown.

“I’ve got it, thank you,” Thor said, his tone growing stern.

“It’s not a problem, I can do it,” Haewkyr said, eyes flashing.

Loki dragged the deer up over his shoulders with a scowl.

“Do you think I’m helpless?” he asked in an acid tone.

They both went silent.

“No, Loki, I’m sorry,” Thor said, subdued.

“Me too, I shouldn’t have forgotten,” Haewkyr added.

Loki turned his back on them and walked back towards what was left of the path. The two of them trailed behind him like naughty children.

“I thought you two would be friends,” Loki said after a few minutes.

There was silence behind him.

“I *wanted* you two to be friends,” Loki added.

“We’re sorry,” Haewkyr’s voice said.

Thor made an agreeing kind of noise.

“You have so much in common,” Loki continued, “far more than either of you does with me. Are you *too* alike to like one another? Is that even something that happens? I never believed it until I saw the two of you interact.”

Once again there was silence behind him. Loki risked a look.

Haewkyr and Thor looked like two identical statues to the god of shame. They stood side by side behind him and they were both looking at their feet.

“We’re sorry,” Thor said this time.

“We’ll try harder,” Haewkyr added.

Loki turned away without saying anything. He hoped they hadn’t seen how hard he’d been trying not to laugh at the sight of them both standing there like that.

“Fine, you do that,” he said when he’d gotten himself under control. “Now let’s continue.”

They found the path again and sat down to wait for the rest of the party to catch them up. It didn’t take long, their excursion to go and hunt had taken up quite a bit of time.

Burtchen shot Loki a pleading look.

“I’m not a bad shot, your Grace, if you would permit me to go with you next time,” he said.

Musleen’s face was impassive, although Daenceia looked like she wanted to strangle someone. That someone was most likely Fomalen, who was sweating hard and breathing harder as led his horse through the undergrowth.

“Oh… you… found… something… what… a… fat… deer…” he wheezed.

Loki put the deer across Lightning’s back and tied it securely.

“It should do for a couple of days if we cook it soon,” he said. 

“The sun will be going down in a few hours,” Musleen said. “Start looking for a good camping place as we walk, I want to be set up before we lose the light.”

They stopped after another hour and a half, when Haewkyr heard the sound of water.

“Grandfather told me that there were streams running through the fields, although there shouldn’t be any this close to the path, it must have changed course over the years,” he said.

They found it a little way off the path and tracked along it until they came to a place that was a little clearer than the rest. Not much clearer, they still had to set their tents up among the trees, but at least they could see one another from the entrances.

Daenceia lit the fire this time after Musleen had cleared the ground and set the wood. It glowed quite merrily in the forest, although as the light from the sun faded the flickering fire caused dancing shadows across the trees.

Fomalen was quite apologetic at having held them up, and he volunteered to cook and carve the deer, using some of his own dried herb supplies to spice it up. The end result was mouth-watering, and all was… perhaps not forgiven, but at least forgotten for the time being.

Thor and Haewkyr were back to being absurdly polite to one another, with Loki pointedly ignoring them both. Musleen was studying his maps, trying to figure out how far they had travelled in a day so that he could estimate how long the rest of the trip would take them. Daenceia sat by his side and listened as he spoke, occasionally making suggestions or observations.

Burtchen and Gruangeyr had collected a good amount of dried wood to feed the fire and were stacking it up neatly in a pile, while Laindyr took several soil samples from around the area, which he was labelling meticulously. 

Fomalen’s men cleaned their weapons, took care of their horses, and generally took care of themselves.

Loki didn’t like them. They had seemed quite friendly, and were happy enough to chat about Asgard. Certainly they had treated both Loki and Thor with great respect, but still Loki couldn’t shake the feeling that three private guards were unnecessary for a venture such as this.

Fomalen turned in early, claiming exhaustion from the long day of travel. Loki stayed up to watch the fire flicker and dance. He was still annoyed at Haewkyr and Thor, but he felt that in order to sort things out he’d need to speak to them separately; together they were impossible to fathom.

Slowly everyone drifted away. Daenceia was yawning early, as was Laindyr. Burtchen turned in when Musleen did, and Gruangeyr went not long afterwards. Fomalen’s men went next, until at last Loki was alone with Thor and Haewkyr, who were both sitting quietly with their own thoughts.

Haewkyr glanced from one prince to another. He’d messed up. So had Thor, but Haewkyr was a little older, and as such it was mostly his fault.

This was a logic he’d relied on growing up with two older brothers; it was a bit rough when it rebounded on him.

“I’m going to bed,” he said. “See you both in the morning.”

Thor acknowledged him with a wave as Loki nodded and said, “Goodnight.”

And then there were two.

Thor rose from his position by the fire and shifted until he was sitting next to Loki.

“I’ve been terrible these past few weeks,” he said.

“Yes you have,” Loki said. “I’m not your mother or your nursemaid; I’m not going to fix this for you.”

Thor nodded. “I don’t like him,” he said.

“Why?” Loki asked.

“Because he makes you smile,” Thor admitted, “and I can’t.”

Loki was silent for a minute.

“You’ve made me smile,” he said at last.

“Not like that.”

“Thor-“

“No, Loki, I know we are still figuring this out between us, I *know* that things will take time until we are able to speak as freely as we once did, as friends. But I cannot pretend that it doesn’t drive me mad to see how easily you can talk with him, not when he’s so much like me.”

“So you do see it?”

“I see nothing *but* it. Loki, you said that you wanted to heal, you expect me to find another person to be my wife, but what if you do heal and are able to be with someone again? He has no realm to rule, nothing that will tie you down or put pressure on you, and he’s just like me…”

Thor trailed off, having finally said his fears out loud.

Loki was stunned. He’d never said… but he sort of had, hadn’t he? He’d told Thor that he couldn’t marry him because he couldn’t be the queen of Asgard, but he’d never ruled out potentially marrying someone else one day.

Oops. 

“Thor, I didn’t mean it like that,” he said carefully, trying to test his thoughts out in his head before speaking. “I don’t want to be with anyone right now, it’s true, but honestly, Thor, I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to marry someone, not even if I live to be seven thousand.”

Thor winced beside him. “I don’t think marriage is supposed to be like *that*,” he said carefully. “Certainly I would never treat my wife… so badly, badly isn’t even the word, there *isn’t* a word for what he did.”

Loki bit his lip hard and hugged himself tightly. He didn’t want to think about it, he didn’t want to be reminded that Thor saw it all, that he knew *everything.*

“I’m sorry, Loki, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Thor said softly.

“I don’t like thinking about it,” Loki said in a quiet voice. “I don’t ever want to think about it again, but sometimes that’s *all* I think about, because it comes back to me whether I want it to or not. It will always be with me, it will always follow me. I can’t be with someone like this; I can’t love them the way they should be, the way they deserve.”

“I will try to like Haewkyr,” Thor said.

What else could he say? That he would take Loki’s love in whatever form it came? That even a scrap was better than nothing? That they never even had to kiss again if Loki couldn’t handle it, because Thor didn’t love him for his kisses?

Maybe that’s what he should say.

“Loki, I have loved you for a long time, your whole life I have loved you in one way or another. If you cannot be with someone physically, then I will respect that… and if… if one day you can, and you find someone who doesn’t have a realm sitting on their shoulders… I will respect him, because of my love for you.” Thor paused for a moment and then added, “But I will not like him.”

Loki’s mouth twitched a little, before giving in and becoming a smile. Not quite the smile that Haewkyr could bring to his face, not yet, but the smiles that Thor brought out in him were deeper somehow, for all that they were less obvious.

“Haewkyr is not a rival, Thor, he’s a friend,” Loki said.

Thor sighed. “Very well, we *have* been trying to get along better, but it’s not been going so well. I will try harder.”

“Thank you,” Loki said, “and I’ll have a word to him about riling you up, I’m sure he’s doing it on purpose.”

“Don’t, you’re right, you’re not my mother or my nursemaid, I will speak to him myself and we will sort it out like men,” Thor said.

Loki nodded as he looked at the fire. He was feeling unsettled, and he wasn’t sure what to do.

Sharewdia. He had his grandmother’s necklace, he could talk to Sharewdia.

“I’m sorry, Thor,” Loki said. “The whole time I was gone I wanted nothing but to be by your side, and now… I can’t, I just can’t bear the thought of contact, of intimacy.”

“I know, and it doesn’t matter to me,” Thor said. “You do what you need to do, Loki, for as long as you need to do it.”

“I’m going to bed now,” Loki said, looking up at Thor.

Thor nodded, still looking worried. Loki hated the fact that he made Thor worry about him.

“Good idea, we have far to go tomorrow,” Thor said.

He reached out a hand and held it over Loki’s without touching him. Loki could just feel the warmth of it on his skin.

“Goodnight Loki,” Thor said, and withdrew.

“Goodnight Thor,” Loki said back, and they rose and headed for their respective tents.

Loki held his hand against his heart in the darkness. Such a simple gesture but it was like bathing in love, if love could be something so encompassing.

It wasn’t until the sun rose and Loki woke that he realised he hadn’t called on Sharewdia after all.


	44. Forty Three Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Into the Darkness

They reached the gate after eight more days of travel. The road remained overgrown and difficult to navigate the entire way through. At last though, they reached the edge of Lord Fallconyr’s lands, as indicated by the crumbling archway that led to yet more forest beyond.

“Grandfather said that there were mostly trees beyond the fence,” Haewkyr said. 

“They do look a lot taller than the ones in here,” Loki commented.

Indeed that was true. The trees on the outside were significantly higher than the ones on the inside. As one, the group craned their necks upwards to look.

“Wow,” Daenceia said at last, summing them up beautifully.

They set off through the gate, walking carefully through the dim forest.

The taller trees delivered one advantage, no smaller undergrowth to trample through. But the downside was the loss of light. Once they were into the forest proper it became almost pitch black around them.

Loki called some light to his hand, as Daenceia did likewise. They held their lights over the group as Musleen reached into his pack and took out his torch. Thor and Haewkyr followed his lead as did the rest of the men.

“From this point on we are off the map,” Musleen said, “so everyone please be very careful. No wandering off.”

It was quiet in the tall forest, the group was the noisiest thing in it, and not just because of Fomalen stumbling behind them, the forest was like a morgue.

It grew colder too away from the sun; the group began to walk closer together and to check on one another more often as they headed further into the darkness.

“Was this really here when Lord Fallconyr last farmed those fields back there?” Musleen asked, looking up at the trunks of the trees as they disappeared into the darkness.

“He said that the forest was cleared for the fields, so I suppose it must have come right up to the fence. He never had permission to extend his lands further, or to tame the forest outside of his own borders,” Haewkyr said. His voice was sucked away into the darkness.

They continued on for a few hours, walking carefully and quietly, until– 

“WHOOSHOO!”

They all jumped with a start, Fomalen giving a little scream of terror as Gruangeyr sneezed.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

Musleen checked the time and nodded. “It’s about time to stop anyway, let’s keep an eye out for a good place to camp as we walk.”

It took another hour before they found an area that was deemed suitable. A tree had fallen, crashing into its neighbours, which had held it mostly upright. But the space it had occupied in the canopy was clear, and a few tiny stars could be seen high up above.

They set up their tents in the hollow left behind by the giant tree and lit a fire using its dried-out roots, chopped from the main truck.

The light didn’t go very far, something about the forest sucked it all away. Loki grabbed the small shovel from Musleen’s pack and a few small crystals from his own. He put light into the crystals and began to walk away from the group, leaving behind a trail of lights as he went. Once he felt he was far enough away he began to dig a hole for the toilet.

He was joined a few minutes later by Musleen, who held a finger to his lips.

Loki hadn’t been planning on speaking loudly anyway, the forest subdued the impulse in all of them.

“I’ve noticed that Haewkyr and Thor appear to have calmed somewhat this past week,” he said.

Loki nodded as he dug out another shovelful of dirt.

“There was an issue. I believe that it is solved, at least on Thor’s side, and Haewkyr has been less antagonising now that Thor is not rising to it,” he replied.

“I’m glad to hear it. I was worried that I might have to get tough with them. Although I have to admit, I’m not sure how to get tough with the crown prince of a different realm, even if he is here as my guest.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Smack him between the eyes with a roll of paper,” he suggested.

“Somehow I don’t think that approach is entirely wise,” Musleen answered.

Loki smiled, “No, probably not,” he admitted. “Although once I did do that, when we were children, he stopped what he was doing all right.”

The corner of Musleen’s mouth turned upwards.

“This isn’t what I expected,” he said, gesturing to the forest around him. “I knew that the fields were the result of a lot of clearing but I thought the forest would be like something near the camp-grounds where we used to hunt, not these giant monsters.”

“You’ll have a lot of timber once you clear it all,” Loki said.

“ _If_ we clear it all,” Musleen said. “It may not be worth doing, and I’m still puzzled as to why there was a gate there, it makes no sense.”

Loki shrugged, “I can ask Grandfather when we get back, perhaps it was so that the field workers could fetch firewood, after all, once the fields had been cleared there wouldn’t be much about.”

“Except for the road,” Musleen said quietly, laying down his ace like a true player. “It continued into the forest, almost gone beneath the dirt and the roots, but every so often I caught my foot on a cobblestone. There used to be something out here.”

“There may be no mystery,” Loki pointed out. “The *old* settlement, from back before the unification of Vanaheim, is still preserved further north from here, this road may date back to then and Lord Fallconyr didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

Musleen nodded. “You may be right, although I’d like to know for sure. I’m certain that the trees are somewhat lower and less grown over along the path. That indicates that it was still in use more recently.”

Loki inspected the hole by the light of Musleen’s torch and judged it to be deep enough for the night.

“How much further are we going to go?” he asked.

“I was thinking of travelling for another day, maybe two, enough for the soil tests to determine accurately what we are dealing with. Then we can turn back.” Musleen said.

Loki swung the shovel up over his shoulder and they began walking back by the soft glow of the crystals.

“I wasn’t expecting such darkness,” he said. “For some reason I thought–“

A yelp in the darkness interrupted them.

“Daenceia,” Musleen said and took off back to the camp.

Loki stayed on his heels as they tried to navigate over the uneven ground. A series of thumps could be heard, followed by a blinding white light.

Then the light vanished, and Daenceia stumbled out into the camp from where her tent was set up.

“What happened?” Musleen asked, worry lining his features as the others all gathered from various spots around the camp.

“Something grabbed me by the hair in the dark,” she said. Unlike Musleen, who was showing his worry clear in his face, her expression had turned to steel. “It startled me, but I spun and kicked it a bunch of times and made it let go, then I made the light. I overdid it a bit; it became too light for me to see anything, and I think it got away.”

Musleen grabbed his torch and sword, but Daenceia stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Oh no, you are not running off into the dark like a crazy man. If it’s out there it will come to us, and we are all much safer together by the fire.”

“Was it an animal?” Loki asked. “You said it grabbed you by the hair.”

Daenceia frowned. “I didn’t think there was anyone beyond the Barrier,” she said cautiously.

All eyes turned to Haewkyr, who shook his head. “Thanos killed anyone left on the wrong side, Grandfather said that it was a slaughter, once he could no longer reach the heart of Vanaheim.”

“That’s what the palace records say as well,” Musleen confirmed. “Perhaps it is a climbing animal with high dexterity.”

“Perhaps,” Loki said, although his eyes slid over to where Fomalen was sitting. Two of his three guards were with him, the third was on the other side of the fire, scanning what could be seen of the trees.

“I doubt it was a person.” Thor said, “Unless they can see in the pitch darkness.”

“It’s not a normal skill,” Loki said, setting the shovel down and sitting by the fire, “although it can be achieved with talismans or enchanted reading glasses.”

“We have a few of those back at the palace for night work,” Musleen said. Daenceia was now tucked firmly against his side. “I don’t suppose anyone brought any along?”

“I didn’t anticipate a giant forest of pitch darkness, sorry,” Haewkyr said as everyone else shook their heads.

“I think we should stay closer together when we sleep then,” Musleen said, “and maybe keep someone on watch throughout the night. We can’t see these things coming and that concerns me.”

Thor volunteered for the first watch, as he wasn’t tired. He promised to wake Musleen after an hour to take over. There were enough people in the group that long watches were unnecessary.

At Musleen’s request, Daenceia moved in with Loki, the only other ‘female’ in the group. He did shoot an apologetic look in Loki’s direction as he made the suggestion, but, given what had happened, Loki decided to forgive him… this time. As a kind of consolation/acknowledgement of his masculine half, Musleen volunteered Loki for the third watch, stating that he would wake him when the time came.

“All of the downside and none of the perks,” Loki muttered to Daenceia as they tried to get comfortable in his tent.

“At least you’re not in with Thor and Haewkyr, because *they* got moved to Fomalen’s big tent,” she pointed out.

In the big tent, Haewkyr made himself comfortable in the space between Fomalen and Musleen. There was enough space left for Thor as well when he came in from watch, but there was no denying that Fomalen was uncomfortable with sharing his space. He was used to luxury and Haewkyr’s ‘outdoorsman’ personality clashed with his sense of decorum.

Loki took some time to fall asleep, being on alert as he was from the attack. Daenceia was also having trouble falling asleep, Loki could hear her shifting next to him.

But he must have drifted off eventually, because Musleen woke him gently by pressing on his ankle until he opened his eyes.

“Time,” Musleen whispered and disappeared.

Loki blinked hard to wake himself up and then crawled carefully out of the tent.

Musleen was waiting for him by the fire, which he was building back up.

“All quiet?” Loki asked, sitting down and taking a hot drink from Musleen.

“Not a peep, I’d love to know what grabbed her,” Musleen said.

“Well I’ll keep a keen eye out,” Loki said.

“I know, Loki?”

“Yes?”

“Can you see magic?”

Loki frowned. “I can if I concentrate on it, not naturally though.”

“So you wouldn’t know if anyone here had any talismans on them?”

“Actually I do, I had to see magic to open the gate, I saw your communication device, my bag was glowing a little of course, Mjolnir was like a furnace. I didn’t see anything else.”

Musleen nodded thoughtfully.

“Do you have a suspicion?” Loki asked.

“Always,” Musleen said. “But in this case we are travelling with a man I know only from vague memories and a thin file, and three men of whom I know nothing at all. I would just like to know whether I should be concerned.”

Loki took a sip of his drink. “Nothing else stood out, although I can try again tomorrow and have a proper look. Fomalen has a talent for seidr, it was glowing around him.”

Musleen finished the last of his drink. “That doesn’t surprise me, Horrseen has run the Tower for centuries, Woalfen showed signs of having talent but he chose not to pursue it, as far as I know Fomalen never trained either, certainly not in Vanaheim. I’ll have to check with my sources when we get back and see if there’s any evidence of him learning seidr in Asgard.”

“I’ll try to have a closer look tomorrow,” Loki promised him as Musleen rose to go to bed.

“Take care, Loki, we really don’t know what’s out here,” Musleen answered. He paused for a moment, “I’m glad to be travelling with you again,” he added. “I’ve missed your council.”

Loki watched him disappear into the tent. It was nice to be spending time with him again as well. Loki found himself thinking about the invitation to visit Camtan when the new baby would be born. He hadn’t been eager before, but this trip out here had reawakened his desire to see everyone again.

The silence was absolute. Loki added another stick to the already well-burning fire and reached into his coat to finger the hilts of his knives, just in case. 

His mind drifted as he sat there; with no distractions it was difficult to stop thinking about the old King, and Thor, and all of his tentative plans for the future.

Vanaheim had much to recommend it, in terms of travel, and once the Barrier came down there would be huge areas of uncharted land to explore. If he could get permission from Dorgen to stay here then he could be at the forefront of new discoveries.

At the same time, it would be nice to travel without royal restriction. He could visit Midgard instead, and see their wooden halls.

Maybe he could sneak into Jotunheim and see the ice giants.

Would he ever go back to Asgard?

Of course, one day, when Thor was crowned King; Loki wouldn’t miss that day for anything, but earlier? No, he had no reason to return.

‘You have friends there,’ his thoughts reminded him. ‘Mother is still there.’

‘My friends can come and see me where I travel, and Mother will visit her family here, I can visit at the same time. I will _not_ go back.’ Loki thought furiously.

‘What about Thor? He will have to start taking up some responsibilities in the realm soon. He will be unable to come and go as easily as he has done, will you visit him?’

Loki scowled. Stupid, traitorous brain. He could visit in secret then, he wouldn’t see *Odin*, not ever. He hated the man for what he’d done to Loki, he hated him for his stupid oath, for his blindness to the old King’s true ways, but most of all, Loki hated him for the fact that Thor was now an impossible dream rather than a potential future.

Thor had been afraid that one day Loki could actually be with someone. How could he have feared such a thing? Loki could barely entertain the *thought*, let alone fathom a time when he would be able to lie with another without fear or disgust.

But wasn’t that what he was aiming for? Why try so hard to heal if the end goal was not the ability to be as the others were? And with all that involved?

No, the goal was to live without the Ink haunting his every move. He was never going to have intimacy, not after what happened, not after the horror, and the pain.

_Visxena had managed it._

And there it was. He’d been unable to understand how she could have been with someone else, but she had. She’d loved, and felt herself worthy of love, and despite all that had happened to him, what Loki really wanted was to feel the same way.

“I am worthy of love,” Loki whispered in the darkness. It was easier to say when he didn’t have to look at himself.

So where did that leave him? What if, one day in the very distant future, he managed to heal enough to allow such intimacy? What would he do? Whom would he be with?

All he knew was that he could never be with Thor.

At what point did broken hearts stop hurting?

Loki bit his lip hard. He was not all right. The darkness was absolute and offered no respite.

He reached into his robes and grabbed the necklace charm.

“Grandmother?” he said tentatively.

There was no reply. For a second Loki felt panic build within him, he couldn’t be alone, he couldn’t be!

Then his brain cut in with a reminder. Lord Eadgleyr had told him to call his *name*.

His mother probably hadn’t used his title either.

“Eadgleyr?” Loki said in the darkness.

The necklace began to glow faintly, and a second later Loki heard his Grandmother’s voice. “Loki dear, are you all right?”

“I, I’m on watch,” Loki said. “I’m not doing very well.”

“Do you want to tell me about it, or shall I fetch Sharewdia?” Lord Eadgleyr said. His voice sounded faintly echoey.

Loki thought about it. “Sharewdia please, if she’s awake,” he said. He wasn’t certain that his grandmother would understand his confusion, but he’d discussed it with Sharewdia before.

“Hold on then, Loki, I’ll wake her,” Lord Eadgleyr said.

There was the sound of rustling associated with someone rising from bed and shuffling into a robe, followed by footsteps. Loki sat quietly and tried to calm his pounding heart. 

Things would be okay, everything would be okay.

“Loki?”

Sharewdia’s voice. She was there.

“I… I’m here,” Loki said.

There was the sound of movement on the other end, and then Sharewdia spoke again.

“Your Grandmother has left us in privacy, tell me what’s bothering you.”

Loki breathed out, letting the tension slide from his shoulders. She was here, he would be all right.

“I’m on lookout duty, and it’s dark, and I’m alone, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the future, about what I want and what it means. I feel all mixed up again,” he said.

“Start from the beginning, what were you thinking about first?” she asked.

“I was thinking about travelling, I was enjoying this trip and I was thinking about where I’d go and what I’d see. But then I thought about healing enough to… to… to be *with* someone, one day, in a long while, and then I thought about Thor and I got upset because I love him but I can’t be with him and even if I could I couldn’t and–” 

“Loki calm down. Take a deep breath, and another.”

Loki obeyed, taking the time to look around him as he did so. He *was* on lookout after all.

“Do you feel calmer?”

“Yes.”

“Now, your concerns were not for your travel plans, but for your relationships with people, specifically the physical side of relationships?”

“Um, yes, I suppose so.”

“Can you see how well you’re doing?”

“What?”

“Loki, before you left you were concerned about taking control over your own life, now planning to travel barely fazes you. That is wonderful.”

“But, what about… the other stuff?” Loki asked.

“That is something that we will discuss, but I want you to take a minute to acknowledge your progress, Loki, it’s important.”

Loki nodded, then remembered that she couldn’t see him. “I’m not as frightened by the idea of running my own life anymore,” he said. “I’m even looking forward to it, and I’m thinking of going as far as Midgard.”

“Good, that is quite the change in attitude since the last time you and I spoke. This is a good thing, Loki. But now we will talk about your relationships.”

Loki felt a cold feeling come over him. He’d asked for this. “All right,” he whispered.

“To begin with, do you have a goal in mind? Something you want to achieve in regards to a relationship?” Sharewdia asked.

Loki immediately thought of Thor, but he pushed the thought aside. He couldn’t have Thor, he knew that.

“Not really,” he said. “I just thought about, well, everyone else finding someone, and how I don’t want that, but I don’t want that because I’m… not well. I started wondering if I *should* want that, and then I wondered what would happen if I never did, and *then* I wondered what would happen if I *did* and how would I even start?”

“Start from the beginning, Loki. Right now you do not feel the need for a relationship?”

“No, I don’t want to do anything like that ever again,” Loki said firmly.

“Am I interpreting you correctly if I assume that ‘anything’ is referring to a physical intimacy?” Sharewdia asked.

“Yes,” Loki confirmed, a little puzzled by the question, what else was there?

“And what of the more enduring side of a relationship? What of enjoying someone’s company?” Sharewdia asked. “A relationship is not strictly physical intimacy, Loki, it is a great many things, most of which do not require contact.”

Loki frowned, he felt as though someone was trying to explain something to him in a foreign language. 

“But lovers do *things* together,” he said.

“Lovers have sex, yes. There is nothing inherently fearful about the word, and I would like you to try and use it when we speak,” Sharewdia said.

Loki hunched over tightly, drawing into himself more for comfort.

“All right,” he managed to say.

“But lovers do other things too, they care about one another, they spend time together, they tell jokes and laugh, sometimes they fight, and they make up afterwards. They take an interest in one another. Do you feel like that is something you want to do?” Sharewdia asked.

Loki was silent for a few minutes as the darkness pressed in on him. He put another stick on the fire.

“Yes,” he said at last, “but that is friendship. I have that with people now, I was just thinking that I missed seeing some of my old friends and am looking forward to seeing them again.”

“Do you have any friends with whom you feel comfortable speaking of your fears?” Sharewdia asked.

Loki froze. “N-ooo,“ he said slowly.

He didn’t even like talking to Sharewdia about his fears, never mind someone else!

‘What about Thor?’ his thoughts sprang out at him. ‘You’ve told *him* your fears.’

‘Not all of them,’ Loki thought angrily. ‘I’ve had to explain myself, there’s a difference.’

“Loki?” Sharewdia’s voice, calling him back to reality.

“I have spoken to Thor once or twice,” Loki said. “But not seriously, I mean, not because of me, he needed to know some things.”

“Like that you do not want intimacy?” Sharewdia asked.

“Yes. I told him that.”

“And how did he respond?”

“He said he understood, then he got jealous of Haewkyr because of a misunderstanding, now he’s being supportive,” Loki said.

“Jealous of Haewkyr? What happened?”

Loki scowled at the darkness beyond the fire. “I made a mistake.”

“Loki?”

He told her what had happened.

“Do you believe that Thor’s behaviour and confession are what prompted you to think of your future relationships in a new light?” Sharewdia asked him.

“Probably,” Loki muttered.

“Loki?”

“Yes, I think so,” he said, a little louder.

“Do you love him?” Sharewdia asked.

“Yes,” Loki said. “I love him, but I can’t–“

“Get past the ‘I can’t’, Loki, there may be things you don’t *want* to do, but there is nothing you *can’t* do given enough time and determination,” Sharewdia said firmly.

Loki almost threw the necklace away. What did *she* know? Had she ever been tortured? Had she suffered as he had? There were things he couldn’t do anymore, the King had destroyed his ability to do them!

‘Like the ice took Musleen’s fingers and he never fought again?’ whispered his thoughts. ‘Or how Camtan never had a good father and so cannot be one to his daughter?’

“Shut up,” Loki whispered. 

“Loki?” Sharewdia said from the necklace.

Loki stared out into nothing. *Could* he be with someone one day? Was it even possible? 

Was he really going to let the King rule his life forever?

No. He damn well wasn’t. HE DAMN WELL WASN’T!

“I’m here,” Loki said.

“How are you feeling?” she asked cautiously.

Loki didn’t know. He felt like shouting. He felt like laughing. He felt like breaking things.

“Fine,” he said.

“Are you sure, Loki? I can come and find you if you feel you need it,” she offered.

“No, I’m okay. I’m okay,” Loki said. “I still don’t know what I’m going to do, but I feel better about doing it.”

“Are you certain, Loki?”

“Yes, it’s time my watch ended anyway. Thank you for letting me talk to you, I do feel better I promise,” Loki said.

“That’s all right, Loki, I am always here if you need me,” Sharewdia said.

“Thank you,” Loki said again. “I will talk to you when I get back, but I think I’m all right now.”

Sharewdia wished him goodnight and Loki tucked the necklace back into his coat. He turned toward the big tent to wake Haewkyr for his turn at watch. As he approached, he thought he heard a slight rustling, but when he froze to listen there was nothing.

Haewkyr woke easily and joined him by the fire.

“All quiet?” he asked.

“Yes,” Loki said, although in truth he’d been far too distracted to notice anything anyway.

“Good, get some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning,” Haewkyr said.

Loki crawled back into his tent, taking care not to wake Daenceia, and lay down to sleep.

Could he really be physically intimate with someone one day? He wasn’t certain that he *wanted* to be, but everything else that came with a relationship, he did want. In fact, everything else that came with a relationship, he’d never _had_.

He’d had it with Thor, even before they had kissed.

His thoughts churned for a long time, but eventually Loki was able to drift off to sleep.

****

Thor didn’t like the darkness. After the attack on Daenceia there had been nothing, which he found suspicious. He knew he wasn’t the only one either. As they made their way through the black forest he saw Loki inspect each man in the group in turn. You didn’t need to have a lot of brains to realise that he was searching for something.

Thor’s suspicions were confirmed later when he overheard Loki saying quietly to Musleen: “Nothing unexpected,” and had Musleen nod in reply.

There was one upside to the crushing darkness, Thor and Haewkyr had abandoned their bickering completely, united against an unknown enemy. Thor was glad of that, he’d been trying to act less jealous of Haewkyr since his talk with Loki, but it was hard to put aside the fact that, even if one day Loki could have a lover, that lover wasn’t going to be Thor.

They travelled in a subdued group for two more days, taking soil samples and trying to map the areas they covered as they went. On the third night when Musleen made the decision to turn around everyone tried not to show their relief.

“I don’t think I want a weapons factory out here,” Fomalen said as he sat by the fire. “Not unless we raze the forest to the ground.”

“If we decide to settle here then there will be a great deal of clearing done,” Musleen said. “That all depends on the soil of course. There is no point to settling farmers out here if they can’t make a living.”

Fomalen pulled his coat further around himself. “Perhaps the land will be better overall in some of the other places,” he suggested.

“Perhaps,” Musleen said. “We have expeditions travelling to seven of them as we speak, and there is one more on this side that I wish to conduct, but further north.”

“I do hope that you will identify a good place, cousin, are you sure that there will be some? I mean, this place wasn’t settled before, maybe there was a good reason?” Fomalen suggested.

“As near as we can tell the reason was purely population based, we didn’t have the amount of people we do now, so there was less pressure to expand,” Musleen said.

Thor took first watch again, as he had done each night since they entered the forest. There was nothing but silence however and he woke Musleen before going to bed.

The sooner they turned around the better. The forest was a place of secrets and ghosts. Thor wasn’t afraid of such things, but he didn’t like the feeling of trepidation that had taken hold of the group, such a mood could be dangerous if left to simmer too long.


	45. Forty Four Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Discovery

In the morning they made a discovery.

It had been dark when they’d set up camp, one side effect of travelling through pitch darkness had been that they set up camp when they were tired, rather than when the sun was going down, and so they had missed it when they had arrived.

The forest was lighter in the distance, the sunlight was getting through.

Thor wanted to explore, as did Loki and Haewkyr. Musleen agreed almost immediately, looking at the distant light with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

It took them a few hours, but eventually they came to what must have once been a clearing. It had been taken over by the trees and they still needed their torches to see properly, but the forest hadn’t yet had time to block out the light completely.

There were houses. There was a forge. There was a _village_.

“I thought there were no settlements outside of the Barrier,” Loki said as he looked around.

“There weren’t, at least, not officially,” Musleen said.

They searched among the crumbling buildings, looking for signs of the people who had lived there.

“This is where the road led,” Musleen said quietly to Loki. “This place was hidden away, far from the eyes of the King.”

“People who had been banished?” Loki suggested.

Musleen shook his head. “Father never banished what he could kill,” he said. “I don’t think he ever knew about this place, but Lord Fallconyr did, why else would the road exist?”

“Maybe it was built by his father? I mean, he may have known about this place but not necessarily set it up,” Loki suggested.

Musleen gave him a smile. “He’s not in trouble, Loki, I can’t see Dorgen bringing an illegal settlement to the court’s attention.”

“They’re all dead anyway,” Loki said. “Killed by Thanos because they were on the outside of the realm borders.”

From beside Musleen, Daenceia sighed. “It’s not fair,” she said.

“No, it’s not, but what were they doing out here in the first place? That’s what I want to know,” Musleen said.

“Well this place can be cleared easily enough,” called out Fomalen as he navigated a patch of uneven ground. “There’s water over there, and the trees are less thick. I don’t like the travel through the forest, but I suppose with time that can be cleared as well.”

Musleen acknowledged him with a wave. “I’ve told Laindyr to take some samples from around here as well; we might have found a very good starting place.”

Loki went to find Thor, who had disappeared among the old houses.

“This place is interesting,” Loki said as he found Thor standing just inside a larger than normal structure.

“This was a tavern,” Thor said. “There’re still some sealed casks over there.”

“Should we try them out?” Loki asked, stepping carefully in behind him.

Thor grinned at him. “Maybe tonight,” he said. “I was thinking, though, that this is not an isolated settlement. There’s no winery here, so to have wine they would need to import it. That’s what the gate was for at the edge of Grandfather’s lands, and I’m certain that the road used to extend beyond his borders, I spotted cobblestone among the forest debris before we were engulfed in darkness.”

Loki felt a smile come to his face. He loved it when Thor showed his intelligence.

“I was coming to the same conclusion,” Loki said. 

“This place isn’t old enough to predate our Grandfather either, to be honest I think he was hoping we wouldn’t go far enough to find it,” Thor said.

“Runaways,” Loki said. “Political victims, people who would have died had they stayed. They came here instead and managed to have a life, until Thanos of course.”

“Do we share our suspicions with Prince Musleen?” Thor asked cautiously.

Loki shrugged. “I think he already suspects, he’s not stupid, and he’s walking around the same village that we are. Somehow I doubt that he’ll take action, people who hid from the King were often in the right, morally.”

Thor stepped carefully over to the casks and lifted one down.

“This one is whiskey,” he said, examining it. “We’ll have a good night tonight.”

“Remember that we need someone on watch,” Loki said.

“Yes…” Thor said significantly.

“Do you think it wasn’t an animal?” Loki questioned.

“Prince Musleen does, and he’s confided in you,” Thor answered.

Loki felt a flush of warmth at being so easily caught out by Thor. “He asked me to have a look at everyone for magical items,” he said. “There wasn’t anything that I didn’t already know about.”

“Perhaps we can take it with us, and drink when we’re back behind the Barrier,” Thor said, handing the cask to Loki and reaching for another one.

“Wine,” he said after examining it.

They returned to the others, who greeted the casks with cautious glee.

“Nothing to excess,” Musleen said firmly. “Not while we’re still on alert.”

“They may be rubbish anyway,” Haewkyr said, “after so long out here.”

“We can try them over dinner, as long as no one is stupid about it we should be fine,” Loki said.

****

The whiskey was harsh, definitely not the best quality, but the wine was quite pleasant. They all had a glass with their food after Loki and Daenceia had both checked it magically for contamination and declared it to be fine.

Musleen abstained, but you wouldn’t know it unless you were watching closely. He took a glass, the glass was empty later, but no wine passed his lips.

Loki had half a glass, which he sipped. Fomalen had no such reservations and drank happily. Haewkyr seemed equally happy to indulge, although he wasn’t scheduled to be on watch for over four hours. Thor did not drink. He wanted to be alert for his own watch, as he was going first.

They headed back to their last campsite rather than stay in the village. They needed to turn back anyway, and exploring by day and trying to sleep surrounded by ghosts in the dark were two very different things.

“Let the dead sleep,” Haewkyr said casually as they left, “poor devils.”

Thor’s watch was uneventful, as was Musleen’s and Loki’s. It wasn’t until Haewkyr was halfway through his when he suddenly sounded the alarm.

Loki woke and ducked out of his tent as fast as he could, already reaching for his knives.

Haewkyr was holding his torch out, scanning the forest with narrowed eyes.

“I heard a rustling,” he said as the group gathered. “As I moved to try and see what it was, a rock came flying out of the trees and almost hit me on the head. It was thrown bloody hard.”

Musleen examined the rock. “It’s just the right size and shape for a slingshot,” he said. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed.”

“That’s not the action of an animal,” Loki said.

Fomalen came forward from the back of the group and examined the stone. “Could anyone have survived out here?” he asked. “I know that Thanos was terrible, but perhaps he didn’t kill them all, just infected them with his madness. Perhaps they are still under his spell.”

It was a horrible thought, and as one the group turned their torches outward, scanning the trees again.

“King Bor’s gatekeeper, I’ve forgotten his name, but he had the job before Heimdall, *he* said that they were all killed. Although he also said that there weren’t that many, given that our population wasn’t meant to be that spread out,” Musleen said.

“Maybe he missed one,” Loki said. “Heimdall has the ability to see anywhere, but that doesn’t mean he’s looking at you at any given moment.”

“I didn’t know that,” Haewkyr said. “I thought he was always watching.”

“If that were true then no crimes could be committed on Asgard at all,” Thor said. “The rumours about him have become exaggerated, and indeed, Odin never discouraged that from happening, but there are too many inconsistencies in that theory for it to be true.”

“Perhaps we could ask him to take a look in the forest and see what’s out there,” Loki said.

Musleen was still scanning the trees. “Perhaps,” he said, “although I would prefer to solve this mystery before we leave, how else can we recommend this place as a new potential settlement?”

The group did, eventually, go back to their tents and try to sleep. Haewkyr was joined by Burtchen, and the rest of the night was made up of two-man teams, just in case. But nothing further happened; the forest was once again silent.

****

As they were making their way back, Musleen slipped through the group until he was walking side by side with Fomalen, who was struggling slightly over the uneven ground.

“Did you hear the rustling that Haewkyr did?” he asked as they walked.

Fomalen frowned. “No, cousin, I heard his yell though.”

“I just wondered seeing as you weren’t in the tent when I woke. You came from the toilet area, which meant that you were out and about when it happened.”

Fomalen nodded. “I was, and I damn-near pissed all over myself when I heard him shout. But I didn’t hear anything beforehand, of course I was a little preoccupied with finishing as quickly as possible. I don’t like this dark forest, not at all.”

Musleen nodded. “I think we’ll all be happier once we’re back on Lord Fallconyr’s lands,” he said.

Further to the front of the group, Burtchen was making small talk with one of Fomalen’s guards.

“So what do you think it was?” he asked.

The man shrugged. “Person, probably. I know of no animal that can sling a slingshot.”

“Someone left behind from the war would be middle aged or older by now, unless there were enough people to have children,” Burtchen said.

The guard shuddered. “From what I’ve heard of the madness, I would not have liked to be a woman left behind,” he said.

“No, it is a terrible thing to think of,” Burtchen said. “But if it happened, then we may have a little wild-child out here, not used to interacting with others, not able to understand that we don’t mean it any harm.”

The guard shrugged again. “If you Vanir settle this area, you’ll find out soon enough what lurks in the dark,” he said.

At the front with Daenceia, Loki walked ahead, navigating by his glowing hands. Daenceia was using her own magic to leave a trail of light behind them to help the others avoid stumbling.

“Did it feel like a person to you?” Loki asked.

“Yes,” she said. “I don’t think it was expecting me to kick it in the head though.”

“All that spy training paid off nicely,” Loki said.

She smiled in response. “Actually I'd credit the dancing with a kick that high and hard. I credit the hand-to-hand with teaching me to remain calm and react fast, but even so, I still feel that we should get out of here sooner rather than later. I think this forest needs a much bigger group of people to tame it.”

“We’ll be out in a few days, and be laughing about our adventure by the time we’re back at Grandfather’s,” Loki said.

“I hope so,” Daenceia said. She lowered her voice, “Musleen thinks something’s up with Fomalen.”

“I know, he’s had Burtchen chat to his guards all morning,” Loki answered. “But they were all accounted for at each attack. I saw them come stumbling out of their tents last night, and they were by the fire when you were attacked.”

“I know, it’s entirely possible that Musleen is just being his usual suspicious self,” Daenceia said with fondness in her voice. “But if there’s something to be found I’m sure he’ll be the one to find it.”

Loki frowned. “As long as it’s on Vanaheim,” he said. “Fomalen has spent the last thousand years or so in Asgard. Musleen has no authority there. If his spies couldn’t get any information then he’s flying blind.”

Daenceia nodded. “I know, but I take solace in knowing that he’s clever, and tough, and hard to fool. If there’s something going on he’ll find out what it is.”

****

Thor and Haewkyr were walking together. They had made something like peace between them in the dark forest, although there was no telling whether this would last once the perceived threat had passed.

For now though they were both thinking about the stone and who could have thrown it.

“You must have good reflexes,” Thor commented.

Haewkyr shrugged. “I was on high alert already, because of the rustling,” he said. “I wish I could have caught a glimpse of them, whoever they were.”

“Do you feel it was a stranger?” Thor asked lightly.

Haewkyr glanced swiftly about them, but the others were too far away to hear. “It makes more sense to be someone we know,” he answered, “but everyone was in their tents, except for Fomalen, and he waved to me as he went to the toilet, which you have to admit is an odd thing to do to a man you’re planning to attack.”

“Not if you succeed in killing him,” Thor said calmly.

Haewkyr nodded. “I suppose so, but even then, I go down with a thump, the man out of his tent is automatically under suspicion. It seems damn risky. Not to mention that whoever it was can see in the dark.”

“Weren’t you by the fire?” Thor asked.

Haewkyr shook his head. “I moved away when I heard the rustling, and I crouched down once I was clear. That stone still came right at me.”

“Interesting,” Thor said.

“I’ve been a bit unfair to you, I think,” Haewkyr said after a moment. 

“I believe you have already apologised for that,” Thor said.

“True, very true, but let’s be honest, I didn’t exactly change my behaviour afterwards. I’ve grown protective of Loki over the years, and I don’t want you to hurt him. He was acting all scared of you when you arrived, and then after you spoke he seemed better, but sadder. Plus, you were mean to me, a man has feelings, you know.”

Thor felt his mouth curl upwards into a smile against his will. “I apologise for being mean to you,” he said. “I have spoken further to Loki and no longer have the desire to shove you out of the room whenever he is near.”

Haewkyr looked across at Thor questioningly. Thor shrugged.

“I’m very protective of him too,” he said, “and I’m not as blind about you as he is.”

“Ah,” Haewkyr said.

“Yes,” Thor answered in a meaningful tone.

“I wasn’t trying to do anything,” Haewkyr said.

“No, I can see that now, I couldn’t see it then.”

“Loki wouldn’t have anyway. He’s only got eyes for you.”

“So he tells me. Your brother, by the way, told me that you were very honourable, I should have believed him.”

Haewkyr nodded. “I try to be, although there are times when I just want to kick a man in the groin.”

“A particular man?” Thor asked.

Haewkyr nodded.

“Is this man currently dead?”

Haewkyr nodded again. “Sometimes I daydream about going to Hel, finding him and roughing him up a bit, just to calm my anger,” he admitted.

Thor thought about all he’d seen. In the old future, Haewkyr had been executed for trying to kill the King.

“If you ever find a safe way in and out, I’ll join you,” he said, “I’ll hold him down for you.”

****

They reached Lord Fallconyr’s estates with no further incidents and multiple sighs of relief. The forest here was light enough to be able to see without torches, although there was more undergrowth to trip over as a result. Everyone began to relax as they left the darkness behind them.

“Do we need to post watches tonight, do you think?” Fomalen asked as the afternoon wore on.

“Perhaps, perhaps not, it all depend on how things look when we stop,” Musleen said.

“At least we can go hunting again, I’m sick of dried rations,” Haewkyr said. “Permission to go and kill something?”

Musleen nodded. “Go on, but keep an eye on what’s left of the path, it’s still easy to get lost in here.”

“Thor? Loki? Do you want to come?” Haewkyr asked.

Loki was surprised to hear Thor’s name come first, and even more surprised when Thor accepted graciously. The three of them left the main group and headed off into the undergrowth.

“Poor Musleen, I know he would have loved to hunt,” Loki said when they were well away.

“Why doesn’t he? He can leave someone else in charge,” Thor asked.

“He can leave *Fomalen* in charge,” Haewkyr clarified. “He’s the next most senior in rank, it would be extremely bad etiquette to put someone above him.”

“But he knows almost nothing about camping,” Thor protested.

“How much experience do you need to walk along a path?” Haewkyr said. “If Musleen knew him better then it wouldn’t be a problem, but right now he’s still a relative stranger.”

Thor rolled his eyes. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, as Vanaheim has much that I admire, but that sounds like a recipe for disaster.”

“No offence taken,” Haewkyr said. “I disagree with the rule myself, had he not shown up, I would be the next in seniority, then you and Loki, as you are foreign, but also princes, and then Burtchen, as the most senior commoner. Fomalen is the son of a prince, and technically a prince himself, although I understand that those too far from the main branch are not encouraged to use the title.”

“Maybe Musleen’ll have better luck on the next expedition,” Loki said. “I know he had one more planned for himself.”

“Yes, in the north east. I’ve already volunteered to go with him,” Haewkyr said. “Will you two go as well?”

“If we can get permission from King Dorgen, then I want to,” Loki said.

Thor nodded. “Me too, I’ve enjoyed getting to know Prince Musleen, as much as is possible, he is not the easiest man to talk to.”

Loki smiled at that. There had been a time when he’d thought so too.

“Give it time, once he decides to trust you he opens up a little more,” he assured Thor as they walked.

“I doubt, given that one day in the future I will be butting heads with his brother on a regular basis, that he will ever trust me completely,” Thor said.

Loki chuckled, surprising himself. “Musleen never trusts anyone _completely,_ it’s not in his nature,” he said. “But if he thinks you are an honourable man then he’ll allow you the privilege of the benefit of his doubt every so often. To be honest, when you are butting heads with his brother you should have a much easier time if Musleen feels you’ve earned it. He’ll always be his brother’s right hand man.”


	46. Forty Five Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Sudden and Unexpected Detour

They continued on for a while, wandering further and further from the path as they searched for game. Thor had just spotted some rabbits, and they were lining up their shots when they heard a shout in the distance.

“Come on,” Haewkyr said immediately, jumping up and heading toward the sound at a run.

Loki and Thor followed behind him as fast as the undergrowth would allow, until they burst onto the path once more, coming out right in front of the rest of their party.

Loki noticed immediately that Musleen was missing.

“Where’s Musleen?” he asked even as Fomalen came bustling up.

“He was walking with me,” he said, “and then I heard him cry out. When I turned he had disappeared!”

“You were around here, weren’t you, your Grace?” Daenceia asked him in a brisk sort of tone. Worry was clear around her eyes but the rest of her had turned to steel.

“Yes, yes, right near there. We were talking! I was describing the planned layout of my new weapons factory! It was going to be so much more efficient! But then he just vanished!”

Fomalen was jumping around on the spot as he worked his way up into a panic.

“What if the attacker got him?!” he exclaimed.

Loki shut his eyes and tried to cast the spell to see magic, to see if there was any trace around them. People did not vanish into thin air without help.

“He was wearing his communication amulet,” Haewkyr was saying. “He’s probably already called for help, and if not and we can’t find him, we’ll get back to the castle as quickly as possible and contact King Dorgen, he’ll send out people to track him down.”

Loki opened his eyes. Daenceia and Fomalen still had their soft glow, Thor and Haewkyr were still green… and there was a giant blue swirling portal about three feet from where Daenceia was standing.

“He’s fallen through there,” Loki said, pointing. “It’s not quite on the path, were you straying slightly?”

“What can you see?” Haewkyr asked.

Fomalen held his hands up frantically. “It’s hard to tell where the path is sometimes, we may have been that far over!”

Loki waved a hand and concentrated. The portal became visible to the untrained eye.

“He fell through there,” he said.

“Where does it lead?!” Fomalen asked.

“We need to find out,” Haewkyr said. “Is there any way to tell without going in after him?”

Loki shook his head. “It’s obscured,” he said. “I think one of us has to go in.”

“I’ll go,” Thor and Haewkyr said together as Fomalen made a squeaking sound at the back of the group.

Loki shook his head. “I’m going,” he said. “I may be the only one who can reverse the direction of the portal and bring him back.”

“I’m going too,” Daenceia said, glaring at the portal as if it had personally offended her.

“We don’t know what’s on the other side of it,” Thor protested to Loki.

“I know we don't, and you were willing to go not knowing. Stay here and I’ll be back soon,” Loki said.

He grabbed Daenceia’s hand and jumped forwards before Thor could protest again.

There was light, and flashing colours, and a harsh whining sound all around them that made the inside of Loki’s head feel like it was vibrating, but then it ended abruptly and they were thrown out onto the hard ground.

Well, Loki was thrown onto the hard ground. Daenceia was caught by Musleen, princess-style.

“Hello,” he said with flash of mischief.

“Hello,” she replied, relief obvious in her face.

“Ouch,” Loki yelled from the ground, making them both struggle not to laugh.

“Are you all right?” Musleen asked, depositing Daenceia on the ground beside him.

“Yes,” Loki groaned, “I’m good at bouncing.”

“Where are we?” Daenceia asked.

“As near as I can tell,” Musleen said, “we’re on Midgard.”

“Midgard?!” Loki exclaimed, looking around him.

It was mostly trees.

“How can you tell?” he asked.

“I had a few minutes to wander. There’s a village on the other side of that rise. They look like mortals, short, dirty, and their clothing is unlike any style I’m familiar with,” Musleen said.

Loki immediately headed up the rise to have a peek. Daenceia turned back to Musleen. 

“Are you all right?” she asked. “You weren’t hurt?”

“I managed to roll when I landed,” Musleen said. “I was more surprised than anything.”

“Where did the portal come from?” Daenceia said, turning to try and see it, but it was invisible on this side.

“I’ve no idea,” Musleen said.

“It *could* be natural. Seidr build-up has been known to cause such things before,” Daenceia said. “Although that implies a large amount of background seidr present in that area of the forest.”

Loki came back down with a smile on his face. “I’d love to see them up close,” he said. “Mortals are fascinating, the way their lives are so short, I mean, this whole village was probably established less than a hundred years ago, and already five generations could have passed.”

“You should study them one day,” Musleen said. “Midgard is a protectorate of Asgard, surely you’d be able to travel here.”

Loki looked excited by the prospect. “I’d like that,” he said. “I really would.”

“For now though, we need to figure out how to get back home,” Musleen said. “Does the portal go both ways? I was on my way to check when you dropped in.”

Loki shook his head. “I can see it,” he said, “but it’s not active from this side. I’ll have to try and reverse it.”

He stepped up to where the portal was and tried to concentrate. It was hard going, portals were known for their stability, which made changing them difficult.

He was just starting to see the right way forwards when two enormous shapes came flying out of the portal, almost flattening him.

“Thor! Haewkyr!” Loki exclaimed. “What did I tell you?!”

“We got sick of waiting,” Haewkyr said. “Good to see you, your Grace,” he added to Musleen.

“Where are we?” Thor asked.

“Midgard, we think,” Loki said. “Are there going to be any more surprise visitors?”

“I don’t know,” Haewkyr said. “Fomalen was practically pissing himself when we decided to jump, so I doubt he’s coming through.”

“If we’re on Midgard, then we should be safe enough,” Thor said. “They had only just figured out wooden halls the last time I was here.”

“I think they’re progressed a little further than that,” Loki said. “That village had houses of stone.”

“And that man has armour of iron,” Musleen said, looking past them.

There was indeed a man with iron armour, mounted on a horse, and he was quickly joined by eight others.

“Who goes there!” shouted the man, staring at them warily.

“I am Thor! The Thunderer!” Thor called out. 

“And I am Loki! The–“

Loki was cut off as the man drew his sword and shouted.

“Thor?! You claim to be a *god* of thunder in this *Christian* nation?! I will not tolerate this blasphemy! You Vikings are trespassers on the King’s land, and I will have you burned at the stake for your words!”

“What’s a Viking?” Daenceia asked.

The others shrugged, bewildered. Their response seemed to enrage the man, who urged his horse forwards.

Thor rolled his eyes and reached to the sky with Mjolnir. Lightning crackled down and blasted the ground between the two groups, scaring the horses and making them rear up.

Haewkyr held his hands out and calmed them.

“Not strictly necessary,” he said out of the corner of his mouth as the horses stopped bucking and stood quietly again.

“Loki, try to reverse the portal again,” Musleen instructed, drawing his own sword as the men dismounted. Far from discourage them, the lightning show seemed to fuel their anger.

“Pagan filth!” the man shouted. “Witches! Warlocks! You will burn in the fire of the Lord and we will assist him!”

The other men cheered as they drew their swords.

Musleen stepped up and faced them evenly. Daenceia stood beside him, drawing her knife. Thor and Haewkyr took up protective stances around Loki, who was trying to work the portal. 

Loki turned and glared at the mortals. They were _idiots_.

As a group, the men charged…

…in the wrong direction. Musleen straightened up and watched in puzzlement as they ran shouting into the undergrowth, chasing something that only they could see.

“Loki? Or Daenceia?” he asked.

“Me,” Daenceia said. “I know they’re a little on the short side but there *were* nine of them. They’ll be back though, once the spell wears off, so we’d better get a move on.”

“Mortals are insane,” Thor said. “Last time they fell to the ground and worshiped me, this time I am a blasphemer and a warlock, what’s a warlock?”

“It’s another word for sorcerer, we don’t tend to use it,” Loki said as he re-examined the portal.

Haewkyr made a hand gesture and the horses walked over to him.

“Shall we keep you?” he asked them. “You’re not like your cousins in my realm, you’re mortal horses, with such short lives.”

“I’ve never understood why mortals live such a short time,” Musleen said. “I mean, what’s the *point*.”

“I doubt they were given the choice,” Haewkyr said, still examining the mortal horses with interest. “This one’s got a hard bit,” he mumbled to himself and set to work fixing it.

“Mortals are the traditional users of seidr,” Daenceia said. “I studied their history in the Tower. They had great power once, great enough to raise armies from dust and grow whole forests in a single night. But their power came at a price, they could only do it for so long, then their bodies would give in; most barely made it to thirty years of age.”

Loki winced, although he didn’t let his concentration slip.

“That’s why they grew so fast,” Daenceia continued. “They had to reach adulthood and have their children before the seidr destroyed them.”

“What happened? They certainly don’t have seidr now,” Thor asked.

“Outbreeding,” Daenceia said promptly. “With us, with Aesir and Vanir and Jotnir, and the elves of course. Their lives extended significantly… for them, but they lost their seidr. Now there are only a very few who are born with it.”

“And it looks like the rest of them are determined to wipe those ones out,” Musleen said.

“Does that mean that the Vanir talent for seidr originally came from Midgard?” Loki asked; the portal was almost his to command.

“Originally yes, but that was so long ago now. Actually, there are very few *pure* of any race left. The Aesir used to be much bigger, with golden skin and pure red hair. The Vanir were even taller than the Aesir, but very thin, and with pure white hair and eyes so pale that they looked white. I’ve seen pictures,” Daenceia said. “The Jotnir are probably the purest race left, they didn’t interbreed as easily as the rest of us, and I read that they can’t breed with mortals at all, only Aesir and light elves, if the texts are to be believed.”

“What about the dark elves? They hated everyone,” Musleen asked. “That’s why they tried to end the universe, if I recall.”

“They were particularly fond of mortal women though, and the seidr that it produced in their children,” Daenceia said. “The light elves were much the same. I imagine even now there are stories told here of the fair-folk.”

They sat for about half an hour, discussing mortals and inter-realm relations, before Loki gave a shout of triumph. He had successfully reversed the portal.

“Got it! Let’s go before those nutters get back,” he said.

The portal was raised above the ground. Musleen gave Daenceia a boost, before accepting one from Haewkyr. Thor and Loki boosted Haewkyr together before Thor held his hands out to give Loki a leg up.

There was a noise from behind them.

“Blasphemers!!”

“Oh damn, they’re back,” Loki muttered. “Hold on, I’ll take care of this.”

Thor stood back and watched, albeit with a careful hand on Mjolnir, as Loki approached the group.

“Good people, your firm yells have persuaded me to join your Chris-tone nation as a true believer,” he called out. “Put down your arms and welcome your new brother!”

The men glared at him in suspicion. “You lie! This is a ruse!” the first man said.

“Hmm, I suppose you aren’t *quite* as stupid as I thought you were,” Loki said. “But then I did watch you chase a butterfly across the fields accusing it of being a warlock, so the evidence was certainly in my favour.”

“That was no butterfly! That was your fellow Vikings!”

“What fellow Vikings?” Loki asked politely puzzled.

The man looked around and pointed at Thor. “There’s the one that claims to be a god!” he shouted.

Loki turned to look, before looking back with a puzzled expression. “There’s no one there,” he said.

Thor grinned suddenly as he realised what Loki had done. The other men were also looking at their leader with a confused expression.

“He’s standing there! He’s right there behind you!” the man shouted.

Loki shrugged. “How do you even know I’m here?” he asked, and vanished.

“I could be behind you,” he continued, appeared directly behind them all.

They yelped in shock and whirled around. Loki vanished again.

“I’m joking, I was always in front of you,” he said.

“And behind you,” he added, appearing there as well.

“And next to you.”

“On this rock.”

“Up this tree.”

“Over here.”

“Under here.”

“I am Loki.”

“And you should learn to fear me.”

“You are the devil!!” shouted the first man as the group backed away down the only path Loki left open for them. “You are the beast himself!!”

“Now that’s not very polite,” Loki commented as the men fled.

Thor was chuckling behind him.

“We’d better get going before they find their courage,” he said, trying to stifle his laughter.

He gave Loki a boost up and into the portal, before taking to the air and flying through after him.

****

Burtchen was waiting for them when they got back.

“The others went on ahead to report you missing,” he said. “I would not have done so, so soon, but his Grace was in a full blown panic, seemed to think that he’d be blamed for losing his royal cousin. Apparently losing a prince is a pretty big crime.”

“Normally,” Musleen confirmed lightly. “Although we’d better catch them up before Fomalen goes telling everyone that I’ve met a terrible fate.”

“They’re not that far ahead, you weren’t gone long enough for them to get a decent head start and his Grace is not the fastest at travelling over uneven ground,” Burtchen commented. “We’ll catch them before nightfall I’m sure.

He was right. They caught up with Fomalen just as the sun was going down. The look of relief on his face was almost comical.

“Oh cousin, I was so worried! Everyone kept going and not coming back! What was that portal? Where did it go?”

“Midgard,” Musleen said. “And without further evidence, we believe it to be a natural phenomenon. We’ll have to consult the Tower and see whether it can be closed off, although it’s high enough off the ground that I doubt anyone else will stumble into it by accident.”

“You did,” Fomalen said, sounding more like his normal self. “The whole damn forest to walk through and you feel through a portal only slightly bigger than yourself.”

“I’ve always been lucky like that,” Musleen commented dryly.


	47. Forty Six Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Musings and Theories

There were no further incidents on their way back to the gate. Lookouts were maintained regardless, but the mysterious attacker did not seem to have followed them out of the darkness.

Loki was feeling nervous again as they got closer. For one thing, as much as he trusted in his own abilities, he couldn’t help but feel apprehensive about the gate closing while they’d been gone. It shouldn’t have, but then there shouldn’t have been an attacker in an empty forest or a portal to Midgard just off the path. 

His fears proved unfounded though. As they approached the gate he could see it shimmering, and the lone figure of Burildyr was waiting for them as they rode up.

“I’ve received news from the capital, your Grace,” he said as they gathered on the other side and prepared to take down the gate. “Two of the other expeditions have returned successfully, one got caught when their gate closed, but a back-up mage has been sent to reopen it from this side, and the other four are not yet back, but still on schedule.”

“Excellent,” Musleen said. “We’ve done quite well ourselves. Tell me, did any of the returned teams report anything out of the ordinary?”

Burildyr shook his head. “No, your Grace, all was well. I heard the northern-most team found some good plains for growing, with herds of wild horses on them.”

“That’s good news,” said Fomalen, “Perhaps we won’t have to settle the forest at all.”

They took the gate down and packed it back onto the cart before setting off; there were still a few hours until sunset and no one really felt like camping at the barrier.

They were riding again now that the ground was clear, which meant that Musleen was riding astride. He was still unsteady in places, but had improved quite a bit since the first day they had set out.

Fomalen thought his attempts were delightful.

“Cousin you look positively Aesir riding like that! I learnt myself after so many years in Asgard and I can’t help but prefer it now.”

“You ride very well,” Musleen said politely. “Can you still ride side-on?”

Fomalen smiled and looked slightly guilty. “I’ve been known to take a side-on saddle out every now and then, but the Aesir think it’s unmanly, so it has remained my guilty pleasure,” he confessed in a lowered voice.

Musleen nodded, he had not expected much more from the Aesir. Their culture and his were very similar, but they clashed over the strangest things. Unmanly because you wore a robe instead of pants? What was that old joke about the Aesir, the Jotnir and the Vanir who walked into a whorehouse with only one free whore? The Aesir boasted that beneath his tight pants he had the mightiest sword, the Jotnir boasted that beneath his loincloth *he* had the mightiest sword, and the Vanir didn’t say anything, merely raised the hem of his robe one inch?

Ridiculous, all of it, but as long as they remained two separate people there would be differences between them. At least the differences were about minor issues and not something likely to lead them into war.

****

King Dorgen had a problem. He had spent the last few hours carefully drafting a formal request to King Odin, asking him to remove the Barrier from Vanaheim. It was quite difficult to do. Vanaheim was not a vassal of Asgard, therefore the request was not strictly a petition that Odin could grant or refuse. It was a command, but diplomacy dictated that it be worded politely.

He’d started with some praise, always a good move to put the other person in a receptive frame of mind. He’d described how grateful he was that Asgard had kept Vanaheim safe, and that they were allies of many years now, and that Vanaheim had great respect for Asgard’s prowess in battle and Odin’s hard work in keeping the Nine Realms safe and secure.

Then he mentioned that it was this very security that posed a problem now. Vanaheim had grown significantly, and now it was pressed for good farm land, and as it also supplied *Asgard* with the bulk of its food, then something had to be done to ensure that both realms were well provided into the future.

And so he respectfully requested that the Barrier be lowered so that the Vanir people could once again roam their homeland in search of new places to settle and farm.

It was the requested part that stumped him. He needed it to sound less like there was room for negotiation, but without upsetting Odin in the process.

Grrr.

Dorgen sighed and put the draft aside and rubbed a hand over his eyes.

“It’s good, darling,” Mulmyr said, rising from her seat and looking over his shoulder.

“Do you think it’s firm enough?” Dorgen asked.

“As a first letter? Yes I do.”

“First? I want it to be the only one a have to send,” Dorgen said, leaning his head back until he rested it against Mulmyr’s stomach. She took a step back, leaned down and kissed his brow.

“That may not be possible,” she said, moving back and stroking his shoulders. “You may be in for a very tough time.”

Dorgen looked worried. “I hope not,” he said. “I really hope not.”

“What is it?” Mulmyr asked, frowning in concern. “What have you not told me?”

“In my defence, I was only told about it today,” Dorgen said. “The forecast reports for weather over the next twenty years are not good. The Barrier keeps us in an enclosed weather system, now, it’s huge, big enough to maintain our seasons for a very long time, but surely you have noticed that it’s grown hotter in the summers since we were young?”

“I had, but I thought perhaps I was just getting old and remembering the past incorrectly, my grandmother used to claim it was far colder when she was a child.” Mulmyr said.

“It probably was, we live so long that watching the climate change is actually a hobby in some circles. Some… very special circles,” Dorgen said. “But this is different, this is completely out of proportion to what should be happening, and we know why.”

“The Barrier.”

“It’s holding in a lot of things that should be allowed to spread throughout the atmosphere. The weather outside the barrier appears to be three degrees cooler than the weather inside. Our expansion and taming of our environment has been very careful, but after thousands of years it’s finally having an effect. The problem is that once it starts it won’t stop. In twenty years, our crops are going to start failing.”

“We only live on a tenth of Vanaheim, do we not?”

“Yes, and most of us are concentrated around the capital, with only farms and small villages further out,” Dorgen said. “The people were encouraged to do so.”

“So if we can clear the land outside and get crops planted, we’ve got a good chance of averting this crisis?”

“A very good chance. The atmosphere will be a little volatile at first, as the warmer climate in here reacts to the cooler one out there, but it is expected to stabilise after about ten years, and if anything, the cooler climate will cause more rainfall over us, not less. The new farm lands should be well established long before we have to rely on them as well.”

“You haven’t mentioned this in your letter.”

“No, I was wondering whether I should. But politically it would be unwise. I’m essentially asking him to rescue Vanaheim all over again. I’ll do it if I have to, but I’d rather negotiate from a position of strength.”

“It would be better to avoid weakness at this stage,” Mulmyr thought out loud. “When do they estimate that the Barrier needs to come down by in order to avert this crisis?”

“Within three years, otherwise we will have shortages, if we leave it for five years, we’ll have rationing, if we leave it any longer than that, even six years, for argument’s sake, Vanaheim will have to make a choice between feeding Asgard and feeding ourselves.”

“That could lead to war,” Mulmyr said.

“Yes,” Dorgen replied. “I know.”

****

The trip back was uneventful. Musleen received a communication from Dorgen on the second night that went on for some time, but other than that things were quiet.

Which gave Loki plenty of time to think. He’d done quite well on this trip, he felt, and was actually quite eager to start the next one.

There were whole worlds out there that he could explore, beyond the nine realms and far into the depths of space. He wanted to go. He hadn’t been certain if he was ready before, but now he knew. Yes he’d had one night where things had overwhelmed him, but that was mostly to do with Thor, and…s-sex. The actual travel he had taken to relatively easily.

He would go on this next trip, and the planned one over the high mountains, but after that he would just go, go far, far away and have adventures and find treasure, maybe even rescue someone, if the opportunity came up. 

To be honest he was eager to head off right now, were it not for his desire to see Camtan, Sofftia and Dorgen again he would do so.

****

Thor was feeling trepidation. Whatever happened now, Loki would not be returning to Asgard. He’d effectively cut ties with the whole realm when he’d come back to Vanaheim all those months ago. He didn’t want to be Asgard’s queen, he wanted to be free, and Thor could understand that… he just wished that he had the same freedom.

But to denounce his throne and leave King Dorgen as Asgard’s new crown prince? There would be war, plain and simple. The Aesir and the Vanir might be allies, they might get along quite well most of the time, but Odin would rather cut out his other eye than see the Vanir King ascend the throne of Asgard. That would effectively make Asgard a vassal-state of Vanaheim, and cause a major shift in the power within the nine realms.

Before that happened, Odin would spin politics with power and find a way to force Dorgen to renounce his and his entire family’s claim. Some would disagree, and perhaps raise armies, or Dorgen would disagree, and the two realms would destroy one another.

Vanaheim could withhold food. Asgard could send an army to take it. Vanaheim would retaliate, as they had every right to do. Asgard would wipe them out.

It was utterly wrong and yet Thor could see it so clearly.

But perhaps he was wrong, and Odin would indeed allow Dorgen to ascend the throne of Asgard, assuming someone lobotomised Odin’s brain so that he would allow such a thing?

Of course Dorgen couldn’t rule both realms effectively, not alone. He’d have to nominate a proxy for either Asgard or Vanaheim, probably Asgard. He’d move the more powerful of the weapons and treasures to Vanaheim, and then install his son as proxy in Asgard, so as to gain experience with a realm before he took the joint-throne one day.

That’s how Thor would do it anyway. Or perhaps Dorgen would want to keep his son close by, so as to learn the intricacies of the Vanir court, in which case he’d send either his second son, or one of his brothers.

Thor tried to imagine Musleen sitting on the Aesir throne. Despite his longing to be with Loki, the image still left him with a twisting feeling in his gut. The pride he felt in his realm would not allow him to entertain the thought, no matter how competent Musleen would no doubt be at running a realm.

Would Loki come back one day as an advisor? If Thor allowed him to come and go as he pleased, so as not to feel trapped by his circumstance, would he one day stay of his own free will?

It was Thor’s last hope. His desperate, last-chance, million-to-one hope.

****

They arrived at Lord Fallconyr’s castle in a cheery mood. Their adventure had been a success, even with the unexpected surprises along the way.

Lord Fallconyr came outside himself to greet them as they rode into the yard.

“Your Grace, your Grace,” he greeted both Musleen and Fomalen. “Come inside and warm up, it is growing chilly out here and we are about to serve dinner.”

They left their horses to the servants and headed inside gratefully. 

“A real bed tonight,” Fomalen said cheerfully, “with real sheets and feather pillows.”

“I take it you do not think much of camping?” Haewkyr asked him as they made their way to the hall.

“It is not my *favourite* activity,” Fomalen said, “although I quite enjoyed the company.” His eyes slid across the whole of the group, taking in all of them and lingering on Loki’s back. Haewkyr’s eyes narrowed, but he managed to pull his face straight before Fomalen looked up. “I’ll be asking to join another expedition though, I don’t think the forest is the most suitable place for a factory, or any settlement for that matter.”

“No, probably not,” Haewkyr said, watching Fomalen cautiously.

Fomalen seemed to realise what Haewkyr was thinking because he quickly moved forward in the group and began talking to Musleen.

Dinner was delicious, and as a group they all partook of everything that wasn’t camping food to their hearts content. Haewkyr and Thor drank a bottle of wine between them, and even Musleen could be seen with the slightest hint of a smile.

Daenceia sat next to Loki as they ate, with Musleen on her other side.

“The next expedition is scheduled for a month from now,” she said. “I was wondering whether you wanted to come back to the capital with us and visit our friends at the Tower. Thainia was asking about you before we left, she’s running her own hospital now, a children’s hospital in the poorer quarter. She still does two days a week at the Great Children’s Hospital, and uses her money from that to help fund the other one. She’s one of the greatest healers in Vanaheim, and at such a young age. The health of the poor quarter has improved significantly since she started helping them, and Shiarpia has been running an education centre down there, to teach reading, writing and hygiene. I’d love it if we could all catch up.”

Loki thought about it. “I would like to see them,” he said. “I’ll think about it. I have a few things that I have to do here first, but if they’re all finished by the time you leave then I’ll join you.”

“And if not then you can always come along a bit later,” Daenceia pointed out.

Loki nodded. “And I will,” he promised.

He wanted to speak to Sharewdia again, perhaps a few times more, about his plans to travel and how he managed being away this time. But if she thought he was doing well, and *he* thought he was doing well, then he’d like to see his old friends again.


	48. Forty Seven Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Pride of Kings

Fomalen left in the morning. He was anxious to get back to the capital so that he could check on his factories in Asgard. Musleen and Daenceia joined him, saying their goodbyes to Loki, Thor and Haewkyr before riding off just after breakfast.

“Something’s up,” Loki commented as he watched them fade into the distance.

“What do you mean?” Thor asked.

“Last night, Burtchen said they’d stay for a day, this morning they are heading off as fast as they can. Were it not for Grandmother insisting on them having a good breakfast I think Musleen would have been out of here before sunrise,” Loki said.

“He seemed calm to me,” Thor said. “But then he always does.”

“He didn’t want to stay, I saw the slight tensing of his eyes when Grandmother suggested they stay to eat, but he didn’t want to cause a fuss,” Loki said. “I wonder what Dorgen said to him when they communicated?”

“Whatever it was, it is not our concern,” Thor said. “Internal Vanir matters aren’t something that we’d be welcome prying our noses into.”

“True,” Loki said with a slight frown. 

Four months ago he’d have been included in all Vanir matters automatically. It felt strange to no longer be a part of things, like his very own person barrier had been raised and was stopping the easy flow of information.

Still, he’d rather be free; the price he’d paid to be included was too high.

“Let’s go for a ride,” Loki said suddenly. “They’ll be some fences to check or something, there always is. Let’s find out what needs doing and go riding.”

“I thought you’d be tired of travel,” Thor said. “But that sounds good to me. Do you want to see whether Haewkyr is available?”

“You’re really trying with him, aren’t you?” Loki asked.

Thor shrugged and looked at his feet. “He’s important to you,” he said awkwardly.

“Not as important as you are,” Loki said without thinking.

There was a moment of silence as they stared at each other, Thor in surprise, Loki in horror.

“I have to go,” Loki blurted out and fled back into the castle.

Thor let him go. Every impulse he had screamed at him to chase Loki down but he resisted. Loki needed to be alone… maybe… possibly. 

What if he didn’t? What if leaving him alone was the wrong thing to do?

Crap.

Thor took off running, heading, not after Loki, but for the stables, where he was guaranteed to find at least one of the Owelyrsons.

Luck was with him, and Haewkyr himself was examining the tacks that they had used for camping to see if the servants had cleaned them properly.

“You need to find Loki!” Thor blurted out.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Haewkyr asked immediately.

“He said something that he didn’t mean to say and now he’s run off. He’s upset. I don’t think I can be the one to talk to him,” Thor said, although the admission was painful.

“Bullshit,” Haewkyr said almost cheerfully as he calmed down. “Go on, you go and find him. If it all goes horribly wrong, I’ll step in.” 

Thor stared at him in shock for a moment before regaining his composure.

“I’m not sure-“ he began.

“I am. Listen to your elders, cousin, go and talk to Loki before he works himself up too much,” Haewkyr said firmly. “You two have established a dialogue, now go and trust in it. These things need to be built on to stay strong. Go on!”

Stunned, Thor turned and left the stables. He didn’t believe that this was a good idea, but he didn’t have time to find anyone else. He set off after Loki, hoping that he could find him before he became too distressed.

****

Loki was cursing himself as he stopped in one of the flower gardens within the castle walls. 

Idiot, idiot, idiot. How could he be so stupid? How could he say such a thing when he’d *told* Thor he didn’t wish to be with him? What kind of message was he sending? What kind of false hope? He was a terrible person, a selfish one, unable to let go even when he knew it was the right thing to do.

He’d really put his foot in it. He’d been so *careful* to avoid any such acknowledgement! What if Thor took it the wrong way? What if he refused to give up on Loki? But he *had* to, for the good of Asgard!

This was a disaster.

“Loki?”

And here he was, coming around looking for more. 

Loki turned to face Thor, shame showing on every feature of his face.

“I-“ he said, and stopped. What was there to say? ‘I didn’t mean it?’ ‘I did mean it but don’t think of it?’ He had no words.

“I understand,” Thor said simply.

How could two words invoke such strong emotions? Loki could feel tears prickle in his eyes as stood there before Thor.

“I love you,” Loki whispered. “I don’t want to, because I can’t… I *won’t* be your queen, but I still love you. I wish I could stop the pain in my heart, but I can’t. But I won’t hold you, Thor, you need a queen, and a chance to have children. Please disregard what I said, I meant it, but I never meant to say it.”

Thor took a hesitant step forwards. “I know,” he said. “I know what you’ve asked for, and I will not ever try to convince you to be the queen of Asgard. But I promise you Loki, as long as I live I will love you, as long as I breathe you will be the most important person in my life, and *because* you are the most important person in my life, when you go, and I know you are planning to, I will wish you the best of luck. I will never cage you. I *understand*.”

“I’m going to go after I visit the High Mountains,” Loki said. “I’ve already decided. I’m going to travel beyond the nine realms themselves. I will see everything and learn even more. I’m not staying here and I’m not going back to Asgard.”

“I know,” whispered Thor, although inside his heart broke at hearing the words he’d dreaded being spoken aloud in such definite terms. “Will you write to me? Tell me all of what you see?”

“Yes,” Loki said, after a pause that made Thor worry. “I’ll write to you.”

They sat together in the garden for a long time, neither one of them speaking, but both lost in deep, disturbing thoughts of two futures spent alone, that neither of them wanted, but could see no way to avoid.

****

Thor left two days later. He managed to extract a promise from Loki that he definitely wouldn’t leave Vanaheim until after he’d seen beyond the High Mountains.

“I have been asked to join the expedition, I would like to see you again before you leave,” Thor said. “But for now there is something I must do, and it will take some time to do it.”

“I promise,” Loki said. “But after the visit is over, I will leave within the fortnight.”

Thor travelled back to the official Bifrost site in the capital to journey home. He knew that he couldn’t change Loki’s mind, and a part of him didn’t want to. Loki *deserved* his freedom. He deserved a chance to travel and discover and explore. But there was no way in the nine realms that Thor was going to let him go unprepared.

His first stop was to the armoury, where he ordered a companion knife to the one he’d given Loki. He’d explained to the weapons-smith that Loki had lost Odin’s knife during their travels and that Thor would like him to have a new one to take its place. The shape and weight would be the same, but the design Thor ordered was completely different. He also ordered a complete set of throwing knives of the finest quality, and a proper belt to hold them in.

Then he visited the tailor’s and ordered three sets of hard-wearing travelling clothes for Loki to wear. Two were in his preferred colours of black and green, with one set a more subtle earthen-tone, in case camouflage was needed.

A travelling saddle with extra straps for his packs was next for Lightning to wear, and a set of matching bags that hooked onto the sides.

A staff, not inherently magical, because Loki didn’t need it, but good for fighting and walking. Thor had them embed small crystals known for their ability to hold magic all along the length, in case Loki wished to build up a reserve for later use during his travels.

A good strong water skin, reinforced so that when camping he could go two days without finding water, three if he was careful.

New boots, sturdy and strong. He’d need them to last through many different terrains.

No matter what it was, Loki was going to have the best, Thor would make sure of it.

Maybe if he busied himself with preparations, he wouldn’t have to think about the end result, when Loki would turn away and disappear from Thor’s life, possibly forever.

Explaining to Frigga was the most painful part. Thor sat with her all afternoon and carefully explained what he and Loki had spoken about, Loki’s decision, Thor’s acceptance, everything.

“Will he come back here before he goes?” Frigga asked, her eyes filled with tears that threatened to fall down her cheeks.

“No, he leaves from Vanaheim. I do not believe that he will ever set foot in Asgard again,” Thor said sadly.

“He had better,” a sharp voice interrupted. 

Odin. He had heard of his son’s return and had come to speak with him.

“I will not have this curse follow me at every turn. It grows ever worse with each passing day. I have already written to King Dorgen and asked for Loki’s return.”

“He won’t come,” Thor said bluntly. “King Dorgen will not force Loki to return.”

“He will if he wants the Barrier down,” Odin said. “I’ve got him over a barrel with that one.”

“Your Majesty!” Thor objected, rising to his feet. “The Barrier has served its purpose, you can’t hold it over them like that!”

“I can and I will. This is politics, Thor, King Dorgen is new to his throne and already testing boundaries, as I expected him to do. I will show him our strength. He will send Loki home, and then the Barrier will come down,” Odin insisted.

Frigga stood up and faced him squarely, standing in front of Thor almost protectively.

“If you do this, I will leave you,” she said bluntly.

Thor turned to stare at her in shock. He’d known that things were broken between them but Frigga’s sense of duty had always been incredibly strong.

Odin, too, looked stunned.

“You’ll what?” he asked.

“I will leave you. I will divorce you and return to Vanaheim,” Frigga said. 

“You’ve been the queen of Asgard for almost three thousand years,” Odin said. “Your *life* is here.”

“I’ll make a new one, or do you think that impossible?” Frigga said icily.

“Do you care nothing for the fact that I have been cursed?” Odin retorted. “I am the King of the most powerful of the nine realms and I am under attack! This is an act of war against those who cast it. I *know* it is linked to Loki and I *will* find out how!”

There was silence in the room following Odin’s outburst, broken after a few seconds by Thor’s quiet voice.

“I don’t,” Thor said softly.

“What?” Odin snapped.

“I don’t care that you have been cursed,” Thor said. “If you are going through even half of what Loki suffered, and you cannot stand it, then how can you not stop and imagine how he has felt, how he has *suffered*. Live with it. Perhaps you will learn wisdom.”

The corner of Odin’s mouth curled upwards in a sneer. “I have wisdom enough, boy, I will see Loki brought home before the month is out,” he snapped, before whirling on his heel and striding out of the door.

Thor and Frigga exchanged worried looks. 

“I’m certain that Loki had nothing to do with the curse,” Thor said. “He would have told me if he did, I’m sure of it.”

He stopped when he saw the look in his mother’s eye.

“I’m leaving him,” Frigga said simply. “I cannot pretend that this marriage is working, not anymore. I cannot maintain appearances when the reality disgusts me so much. But he was right about one thing, I made Asgard my home. I think about all that is here that I involved myself with, the charities, the events, the schools, not to mention the people who come to ask me for favours and blessings. Asgard will be a darker place if I leave. Odin has no time for such things, as he runs the kingdom. They were always my responsibility.”

“I’ll do them,” Thor said. “I need to learn to be a true and just ruler, I can think of no better way than to start with you.”

Frigga nodded slowly, the enormity of her decision sinking onto her shoulders. “I will teach you while I plan my leaving,” she said. “Thor, your life here will not be easy.”

“I know, but one day I *will* rule Asgard, and I am determined to be a good king, and a good man. I am sure that it is possible to be both,” Thor said.

“Your father was one, once,” Frigga said. “But I fear that he has backed himself into a corner and his pride will not let him admit it. He is an old man and a fool.”

“Doubly so if he tries to bring Loki back here,” Thor said. “I cannot see it happening.”

“I can,” Frigga said ominously. “And that is what I fear.”

 

****

Loki and Haewkyr were sitting in one of the living rooms at the end of the day, idly discussing the next planned expedition. It was scheduled for a month hence, and would once again leave from the castle.

“Is Thor planning to go with you?” Lord Fallconyr asked.

“I don’t believe so,” Loki said. “But he’s coming on the trip to the High Mountains afterwards.”

“When will you leave for them?” Lord Eadgleyr asked, sipping his tea.

“When we get back,” Haewkyr said. “We’re planning to ride to the capital and stay there for a few weeks, to catch up with old friends, then we’ll head out. We need to be there before the winter sets in. Travelling on that road in winter is madness.”

“Sofftia is due in just over two months, and she wanted to spend the first year with the baby before leaving it with a nanny, but the weather won’t permit it. We have to go either half a year after the birth, or one and a half years after. She has conceded this, apparently, although I believe we’ll be taking extra servants in case she decides to turn back early and we have to split the party,” Loki said.

“It sounds well thought out,” Lord Eadgleyr said. “But do be careful, both of you. I worry so much when you’re far away from home.”

“We were fine on the expedition,” Haewkyr said.

“Really? I heard from Prince Musleen that something in the forest tried to kill you, Haewkyr, and almost succeeded,” Lord Eadgleyr countered.

Haewkyr had the grace to look embarrassed at being caught out.

“Nearly killed me, *nearly*,” he protested meekly.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you both about that,” Lord Fallconyr said, leaning forward with a serious expression. “I too spoke to Prince Musleen before he left, and I am concerned by the village that you found.”

“Was it an old hiding place for exiles?” Haewkyr asked. “That was our theory. Musleen said he wasn’t interested in prosecuting anyone for old crimes though!”

“And he wasn’t. His primary concern was to ascertain who could be out there after so long. He asked me for a list of names, and a detailed account of how the village was supported,” Lord Fallconyr said.

“You’re not in trouble are you, Grandfather? I know he said he wouldn’t prosecute, but what if King Dorgen feels differently?” Haewkyr asked.

“Dorgen wouldn’t,” Loki said confidently. “He helped at least one victim of, of, he helped at least one person escape when they should have died. He won’t say a word.”

“I do not believe anyone survived in any case,” Lord Fallconyr said. “The madness was all encompassing, especially once the Barrier went up and Thanos was robbed of so many minds to control. The slaughter outside was a statement, no one was spared and he broadcast it inside for all to see. We were helpless to intervene. No, what intrigued me was the whiskey you brought back with you. That surprised me greatly.”

“Why?” Loki asked.

“Barrels of that style were not made that far back,” Lord Fallconyr said. “Someone has been outside that Barrier long after it went up, and they spent enough time there to establish a kind of base camp in the old settlement. Whoever it was, was watching you as you travelled through the forest and is almost certainly the one who attacked you. Prince Musleen would very much like to know who has been out there, and why.”

“Did you tell him about the barrel?” Loki asked.

“I did, and he was most intrigued, but something else has diverted his attention for the moment, something back in the capital. He asked me to gather what I could remember of the old settlement, just in case it proved relevant, and send it on to him. I will give it to you when you leave.”

“So there was someone out there the whole time, who had enough warning to remove *almost* all the evidence that they still used the old village. This is intriguing indeed,” Loki said.

“Hmm, I wonder whether they have let their guard down now that we are gone,” Haewkyr mused.

“No,” Lord Eadgleyr said, catching their expressions.

“We weren’t-!” Haewkyr started to say.

“You bloody well were,” Lord Eadgleyr cut him off. “And I said no, you are not going back there to investigate, just because you *can* get through the Barrier doesn’t mean you *should*.”

“But the gateway was left here for the next expedition and everything!” Haewkyr cried.

“No, neither one of you has permission to travel beyond the Barrier anyway, Loki certainly doesn’t, he’s a foreign prince! Prince Musleen will investigate properly in due time I’m sure. Now give me your words that you won’t run away,” Lord Eadgleyr said firmly.

“I promise,” Haewkyr said reluctantly.

“I promise,” Loki echoed.

He wasn’t completely disappointed, for all that the mystery tugged at his curiosity. The darkness of the forest meant that to find anyone they would have to have a pair of night-seeing glasses each, which they did not have. And if the village was used as a base, then how many people had it being supporting? Perhaps though when the time came for Musleen to investigate, Loki would be allowed to tag along, assuming he was still on Vanaheim of course.

He was determined that nothing would get in the way of his plans.


	49. Forty Eight Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Will of the Father...

Musleen was in his office reading reports of what had occurred in his absence when he received a summons from Dorgen. He set aside his reading and made his way to the King’s workroom, where Dorgen was pacing with a face like thunder as Mulmyr sat by the window and held a letter in her shaking hand.

“He wants me to send him Loki,” Dorgen said without preamble. “He’ll lower the Barrier if I send Loki back to Asgard.”

Musleen frowned. “Loki is a free man, you can expel him from Vanaheim, but you can’t dictate where he goes when he leaves,” he said.

“I know, Odin knows, but he’s demanding it anyway, for all that he uses _diplomatic language_ ,” Dorgen sneered. “Loki is not a criminal, he does not fall under our jurisdiction or exchange treaties, I can’t just hand him over.”

“Nor will he expect you to,” Mulmyr said, her voice was shaking with anger. “Not by force. He’s expecting you to try and convince Loki to go, he knows you will put the good of Vanaheim first, which means that first you will ask, then press, and then finally threaten to never let him see his family here again if he does not go.”

“I won’t,” Dorgen said.

“You’ll have to, if that environmental report is accurate,” Musleen said quietly, with concern in his voice. “If Loki doesn’t go back and the Barrier stays up, we will all be in a lot of trouble.”

“Asgard will starve with us,” Dorgen pointed out, but there was not much hope in his voice.

“No, they’ll do what they did the last time the crops grew badly, they’ll pay extra for the food and our people will suffer the consequences,” Musleen said. 

“Why does he want Loki home so badly?” Mulmyr asked. “I’m worried about what he has planned for the boy.”

“He has his reasons, including the continuing embarrassment of having both his sons apparently abandon their family, and then there is another reason, one I had not been aware of until Daenceia told me, which Odin’s been keeping *very* quiet.” Musleen said. 

“What is that?” Mulmyr asked.

“He’s been cursed by something that is making him live through the less savoury aspects of Loki’s marriage. I’ve no doubt he believes Loki to be responsible, but Loki himself is still trying to work out who did it,” Musleen said.

“Does he have any idea who it might be?” Dorgen asked sharply.

“Not so far, he suspected Daenceia because of their friendship and her magic, but it wasn’t her. Even *I* didn’t know anything about it until she told me. Odin has many enemies, and you don’t have to be a genius to figure out that Loki’s time with our father was not a pleasant one. It shows a certain amount of cunning, and the motive leans towards someone who was close to Loki, although that’s no actual guarantee,” Musleen said. “What I fear is that Odin will try to punish Loki for it.”

“A truth spell would reveal Loki’s innocence, surely Odin would allow his own son to speak under those circumstances,” Dorgen said, sounding alarmed.

“What if it has nothing to do with that at all? What if he wants to marry Loki to someone else?” Mulmyr said, fear clouding her features. “I don’t think he could survive it, not so soon after…” She trailed off, not wanting to say the words out loud.

“Surely not, I doubt Loki would ever agree,” Musleen said. “He’d cause Odin a massive embarrassment rather than submit to another marriage that wasn’t of his choosing.”

“Perhaps we could invite Odin here to discuss the Barrier? That way he can speak to Loki without the poor boy having to go back to Vanaheim,” Mulmyr suggested.

“That would be best, although it would be difficult, he has no reason to agree,” Dorgen said. “I’ll write to him today to suggest it. The arranged marriage sounds like more likely scenario, although I agree it will end in disaster. I truly find it difficult to believe that Odin would think his own son to have cursed him, not given how obedient Loki has been to him,” he added hopefully.

“Prior to his marriage, Loki was a well-known mischief-maker,” Musleen said. “I suppose Odin still considers him to be so, but no matter how angry we are, and we are, we can’t make things worse for Loki if there’s any way to avoid it.”

“What bothers me most about this is that Odin is flexing his muscle on purpose, knowing full well he holds the lives of our people in his hands,” Dorgen said. “If we pressure Loki to go back then he has won, and there is *still* nothing stopping him from making further demands, possibly even greater and more difficult, although he will not call it that. He knows I’ll have to give in, he has three years to play us before the Barrier *must* come down. I have a horrible feeling that he will do so to his absolute limit. I’d never liked father’s overly pandering attitude toward Odin, and I was determined not to do the same, but perhaps he was wise to do what he did.” Dorgen scowled and shook his head. “I hate the thought that he may have done anything right in his life,” he muttered darkly.

“It is an unfortunate fact that we have to face that he was a good King on the international front. Less so domestically, but overall he did more good than harm. I am glad of that, for Vanaheim’s benefit, but that doesn’t mean we have to think of him fondly. I certainly never will,” Musleen said.

“Nor I,” Mulmyr said. “He terrified that poor boy, and worse.” 

“I don’t suppose it would be possible to lift the Barrier ourselves?” Musleen asked, leaning against the back of a chair.

Dorgen sighed. “It’s the strongest spell I’ve ever seen. It would take years of study to determine how to bring it down.”

“Has anyone asked at the Tower whether someone has *done* years of study?” Musleen asked. “They’re always tucking themselves away in their workrooms, perhaps there is someone who has figured out a way which we don’t know about. Daenceia is heading back there tomorrow, I can ask her to inquire.”

“She’s proving to be quite an asset to you,” Mulmyr said with a smile.

The tips of Musleen’s ears turned red, on cue.

“I would appreciate it if you would ask her, brother,” Dorgen said. “Perhaps we can still find a way to circumvent Odin’s plans.”

“We are playing a dangerous game,” Musleen said.

“I know,” Dorgen replied. “But if I bow to him easily then he will walk all over me *and* our realm. I will do it if I have to, to save our people, but I had hoped to turn Vanaheim into a more prosperous, more _independent_ , realm. I know that Odin doesn’t want that.”

“You could always call his bluff,” Musleen suggested. “Make your next request public, release the findings of the study and hope that public opinion both here and in Asgard will sway him.”

“A dangerous move,” Dorgen said, “especially if it fails. I need to speak to Loki, if I *am* forced to send him home he should at least know *why*.”

“He was planning to come here anyway to see his friends before the next expedition sets off,” Musleen said. 

“I’ll send him a letter asking him to come and see me when he arrives,” Dorgen said with a sigh. “I will tell him what is happening; if I *must* force him to return home, then he at least deserves to understand why. But if we can, then we must find a way to avoid handing him over. Find me a way, brother, before Loki arrives. I would like to explain both the problem and the solution to him in the one conversation if I can.”

Musleen nodded. “I’ll do what I can,” he promised.

****

Thor had joined his mother on her daily schedule. It was more involved than he’d originally believed. She sat on the boards of many committees and was the head of three of them. Then there was the afternoon, where she sat and listened graciously to the commoners who came asking for favours. She was wise and fair, and Thor listened hard to her words as he tried to absorb centuries of her wisdom in a matter of hours.

Frigga had promised not to leave immediately; she was determined to leave Thor with a good grounding in her duties rather than simply leaving him to flounder. 

But all the while a tension existed around them. The unspoken fear of Odin’s wrath and what it meant for Loki.

“He won’t come,” Thor said at dinner that night. “He will refuse. Odin cannot drag him back without causing a scandal.”

“He might come back, if it will save Vanaheim. He may not have been treated well by the old King but he was loved by the people, and he loved them in return. Why else would he have thrown himself into helping their commoners learn magic?” Frigga said.

“If he comes back, Odin will be harsh and cruel, Loki has nothing to do with his curse, but he refuses to believe it,” Thor said. “Loki may come back here for Vanaheim, but he will not stay, he will flee as fast as he is able.”

“If Odin lets him,” Frigga said. “I would not put anything passed him at this point.”

“He wouldn’t imprison Loki?” Thor asked, his eyes wide.

Frigga looked at him seriously. “I am seriously beginning to consider that he might,” she said sadly.

“I need to speak to him, I must warn him of what may await,” Thor said.

“Write him a letter, take it to Heimdall yourself and watch him send it, it is the only way to be sure,” Frigga advised.

Thor sighed sadly. “I used to look up to him so much. I was blinded by worship, I did not see how arrogant he was,” he said.

“He’s gotten worse since Loki’s marriage, I don’t think it did what he hoped. King Dorgen is hardly pro-Aesir, and although the rebels are gone the overwhelming feeling is still that Asgard has too much influence over Vanir policy,” Frigga advised. “To remove the Barrier is to lose further control. I believe that Odin does regret sending Loki, but not for Loki’s sake, not really. He gambled a valuable ‘playing piece’ and lost more than he won. I think if he had his time over again he would have insisted on a marriage between Loki and Prince Musleen.”

“What?” Thor asked, surprised.

“Please do not misunderstand me, Thor, I believe that yours and Loki’s happiness should have come first. Loki would have been a wonderful asset to Asgard as your queen. But politically speaking, Odin had the choice between the old King or the young prince. He chose the King, possibly believing that he would still have Loki to use as a playing piece later on, when actually far more could have been accomplished with Loki as Musleen’s wife. Musleen runs the security of Vanaheim, even if King Dorgen had proven to be useless, Musleen would not have allowed him to be walked all over. Gaining Musleen’s favour would have been more beneficial in the long run, which Loki would have facilitated.”

“How do you even think like that?” Thor asked, stunned.

Frigga sighed softly. “Royalty rarely marry for love, Thor. Your father and I were an exception, but even our marriage was only allowed by King Bor because I was noble, and our union helped bring our two realms closer together. The trade agreements that followed the war and my marriage were the best Asgard had ever managed.”

“Did King Dorgen married for love?” Thor asked, suddenly curious. He knew a little about the royal family, but mostly only what Loki had shared.

“Yes and no. Mulmyr was from a very wealthy, noble, family. She was pursued by over a dozen families hoping for an alliance. Marrying the crown prince was perfectly acceptable under *those* circumstances,” Frigga said.

“King Bor did not marry for love, did he?” Thor asked.

Frigga smiled. “Suddenly curious? Let’s see… King Bor married Queen Bestla, a Jotun princess and aunt to the current king, Laufey. It was not a love match, and apart from their children they barely had anything to do with one another. Bor’s father, Tor, married an Aesir noble of great wealth, as did his grandfather, Odis, but Odis’s sister was given away by her father in marriage to the Vanir king of the time, King Lynnxan. They had never met one another before their wedding day and married to cement the first military alliance against the Jotuns, who back then were allied to the dark elves, in fact I believe the King of the time took a dark elf princess as a bride, another arranged marriage to cement their alliance.”

“That is where our relation to King Dorgen comes from,” Thor said. “It’s quite far back.”

“Yes, but the Aesir have never been particularly fertile, especially the royal line, which means you do have to go quite far back to find your nearest royal relatives. Interspecies breeding is difficult sometimes, although modern medicine helps, and the Aesir did marry foreign princesses far more often than the other realms,” Frigga said. “Now, the Vanir roayls, I know more detail about those. After the wedding to the Aesir Princess, Lynnxan had only one child, which was blamed on limited Aesir fertility, but King Wisseen was healthy and very strong, according to the legend. He married a ‘princess’ from the last remaining holdout kingdom on Vanir soil, which is still held by my father today,”

“Lord Fallconyr’s ancestors were kings?” Thor asked.

“Yes, they almost won the wars in the preceding generations too, but it ended in a difficult stalemate. Now, they had only daughters at the time, and so through their eldest child they planned to unite the kingdoms into a single realm, but then they had a son quite late in their lives, who they declared would be the next king of their lands. He was still a child when his father died, and Wisseen took advantage of that by seizing control of the lands ‘in guardianship’. The child received a lordship as a result. Now, Wisseen’s four children all married various noble families, always the most powerful of the day. Marriages were used to prevent uprisings, after all, a stable, secure place at the royal table is a very attractive option compare to a coup that may not work. The next few generations did likewise, and most of the more powerful noble families can claim kinship with the royal family, although they are not close enough to outright call them cousin.”

“I think I prefer marrying for love,” Thor said. “I can’t imagine living and having children with someone I barely know.”

“People manage,” Frigga said. “Although some do it far better than others. If you were married to someone cruel then you would be very unhappy, and affairs were normal, provided that you were discrete and did not have a child as a result.”

Thor shook his head hard. “That’s stupid,” he said. “It’s a stupid tradition, and if history has taught us anything it’s that such marriages do not work. King Bor married a Jotun, and a generation later we were at war with them. Loki was married off to the Vanir King, and four months after the bastard’s death Odin and King Dorgen are locked in a power struggle. It’s not worth it.”

“I’m glad you think that way,” Frigga said. “I truly am. True diplomacy is something you work hard at, with compromises on many sides, in many ways. Simply sending someone to live in another’s house does nothing to change the background problems that exist between them.” 

“But Odin believes it,” Thor said.

“He was raised to believe it, I think, however, that times are changing, not just with you, but with King Dorgen and his family too, just look at young Musleen.”

“I’ve met his girlfriend,” Thor said. “She’s lovely, and a great friend to Loki.”

“From what I hear she’s like a breath of fresh air into the Vanir court,” Frigga said. “Frankly we could do with some of that around here.”

“If Loki truly never returns to my side, perhaps you will get your wish,” Thor said glumly.

Frigga reached out and stroked his hair gently. “Loki loves you,” she said. “Give him time.”

“And I love him. I’ve waited this long, I can wait even longer,” Thor replied.

****

Loki received King Dorgen’s summons with trepidation.

“What could he possibly want?” he asked, showing Lord Fallconyr.

“I can’t imagine,” Lord Fallconyr. “Have you done anything?”

“What?!” No!” Loki protested.

“Alright, I’m just asking,” Lord Fallconyr said with his hands in the air. “Perhaps he wants to talk about the portal.”

“The one to Midgard? I suppose he might be curious,” Loki said. 

“Given the revelation that people were out beyond the Barrier, I think the discovery of a portal is rather relevant,” Lord Fallconyr said. “It may not have been the natural phenomenon that it first appeared.”

“Why would anyone want to open a portal to Midgard?” Loki asked.

“Use your brains, Loki, I know you have them,” Lord Fallconyr said mildly.

Loki pouted, realised that he was doing it and made himself stop.

“They could have used Midgard as a way-station, coming in from somewhere else then departing to Vanaheim,” he said. “If they had the right spelled crystals then they could switch the direction of the portals as needed, or there could be more of them out there. If you didn’t know the exact location of them then you would never know where they truly came from.”

“Vanir wine and whisky implies that they came from somewhere else in Vanaheim. They may have been using the portals to get around the Barrier,” Lord Fallconyr suggested.

“Of course, Vanaheim makes good wine *and* whiskey, so they could easily be from somewhere else and just prefer to deal in Vanir goods,” Loki countered. “I want to get to the bottom of this,” he added.

“I have completed compiling my information for Prince Musleen, would you take it to him when you go?” Lord Fallconyr asked him.

“Yes of course,” Loki said at once.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you, I know it is still a difficult subject for you, but how are you coping? Do you feel…” Lord Fallconyr trailed off.

Loki thought about it. 

“I’m still seeing Sharewdia, and Grandmother has told me I can keep his necklace so that I can check in while I’m travelling,” he said. “I still have nightmares, and I still feel the Ink on my skin, but I am trying hard to ignore it. I *know* it can’t hurt anyone else, although sometimes I feel as though it still can. I’m trying, Grandfather, every day I’m trying so hard.”

“Are you sure you want to travel alone so soon?” Lord Fallconyr asked.

“Yes,” Loki said, surprised at how determined he was. “I’m ready. I can do this, and I want to. I won’t be going for almost a year anyway, after the visit to the High Mountains, so it’s hardly *soon*.”

“It’ll arrive sooner than you think,” Lord Fallconyr said. “I just want to be sure that you will be all right.”

“I will be. I’ve been practicing my portal-making as well, in case I need to cast one in a hurry,” Loki said.

“You’ll be travelling by portal?” Lord Fallconyr asked.

“Some of the time,” Loki confirmed. “There are official channels from place to place, bridges and ships and things like that, but others are beyond the usual pathways, and I am determined to see them anyway.”

“How easy is it to create a portal?” Lord Fallconyr asked.

“If you know what you’re doing it can be quite easy,” Loki said. “But you *have* to know what you’re doing, because if you get it wrong you will be torn apart.”

“Please tell me you are an expert,” Lord Fallconyr said, alarmed.

“Very much so, I studied them extensively in the last twenty years at the Tower,” Loki said. “Along with a few concealing spells.”

“Concealing? Loki-“

“I don’t want Odin to know where I am,” Loki said. “I don’t want Heimdall to watch me and report back to him. I’ve learnt how to conceal myself from him, and I intend to. If I get into trouble I promise I’ll drop the spell.”

Lord Fallconyr still looked worried. “I only wish you would take along a companion, someone to watch your back. Thor’s been travelling, you could go with him.”

Loki shook his head. “We need to be apart,” he said, trying to ignore the stab of pain he felt at the words. “It’s better that way.”

Lord Fallconyr had a look on his face that plainly said he did not agree, but he didn’t argue.

“When are you leaving for the capital?” he asked instead.

“The day after tomorrow, Haewkyr just needs to finish up a few things and we’ll head out,” Loki said. 

“Your grandmother will likely have a few hundred parcels for you to deliver to your uncles and cousins up there, make sure you have room in your packs for it,” Lord Fallconyr said. 

He sounded quite old in that moment, and Loki felt a brief pang of guilt for the worry he was causing. Bracing himself, he reached out and hugged his grandfather. It wasn’t easy. Loki didn’t like being touched much at all, but he felt it was necessary. The Ink slipped around under his skin but he forced himself to ignore it.

“I’ll be all right, Grandfather, you’ll see, and I’ll come back here when I’m done, maybe to stay forever,” he said.

Lord Fallconyr held him tightly for a moment, his breathing had grown heavy as he fought to keep back his tears.

“Just be safe,” he said. “All I want is for you to be safe, safe and happy. I love you my boy.”

Was this what fathers were supposed to be like? Loki wondered as he stood there.

He couldn’t remember the last time Odin had wished him happiness, or for that matter, hugged him.

“I’m so glad I met you,” Loki said in a whisper. “Even though it was a terrible way to meet, I’m glad that I met you.”


	50. Forty Nine Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...Versus the Will of the Son

The Tower was just as busy as Loki remembered it. He made his way through the crowds of people all hurrying to and from various locations, and headed up several flights of stairs until he reached the long corridor, that lead to a smaller corridor, that led to a little nook, that opened onto the two doors that were his scholarship offices.

Daenceia looked up as he tapped on her open door. She was writing something furiously on a piece of paper, but motioned him inside with her other hand.

“I’m almost done,” she said, “then I’ll be sending this along to Musleen.”

“What is it?” Loki asked, curious.

“There, done. He wants to know if anyone here has a way to bring the Barrier down without King Odin’s help,” she said.

Loki frowned. “Why would he need to know that? What has Odin done?” he asked.

Daenceia shook her head. “I have no idea. He asked me to investigate four days ago and I’ve been asking around ever since.”

“Is there anyone?” Loki asked.

“Three potential candidates *might* be able to help, but none of them ever studied it with a view to bring it down, they were mostly looking at strengthening it, for obvious reasons,” Daenceia said. “Shall we grab some lunch? I can send this on downstairs.”

Loki nodded and they headed out.

“Where are you staying?” Daenceia asked as they walked.

“There’s a nice tavern just off the plaza, Haewkyr’s stayed there before,” Loki said. “We dropped out things there when we arrived.”

“Does it feel strange to stay in a tavern when you used to live in the palace?” Daenceia said with a giggle. “I imagine it must feel odd.”

Loki shrugged. “Not as odd as you’d think,” he said. “I used to go hunting in my youth, and we’d stop at all kinds of places on the roadside. You can’t afford to be choosy when you travel.”

Daenceia smiled.

“What?” Loki asked, catching her look.

“You do realise that you are still young, don’t you?” she asked. “’In my youth’ indeed, Loki we are at the beginning of our prime, not the end of it.”

Loki frowned, struck by her statement. It was true, he was still a young man, but he felt a lot older.

“It’s all that responsibility,” he said. “It ages people.”

“Well it’s a good thing you’re giving it up then and going on adventures,” Daenceia said.

“What about you?” Loki asked. “Are you content with staying on Vanaheim? Sharing your life with Musleen without ever seeing more of the galaxy?”

“I am,” Daenceia said. “The thought of adventure crossed my mind, but honestly, I’m a dancer, in love with a prince, who loves me back. I’m having an adventure right here and now, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Loki said nothing. He found himself wishing that a life with Thor felt that way, but it didn’t. The more he thought about it, the more he knew he had to go.

Daenceia spoke to one of the messengers in the courtyard and he left with her letter.

“Won’t you see him later anyway?” Loki asked.

“Not for a few days,” Daenceia said. “He’s been very busy with the King, but I can understand that. He’s very good about writing to me though.”

“Musleen? Commit his actual feelings onto paper, where it may be immortalised forever? I don’t believe you,” Loki joked.

“Well, he *did* make me promise to burn them as soon as I read them, so he’s not relaxed that much, but he can be quite the poet sometimes,” Daenceia said, fighting to hide her grin.

“I won’t believe it unless I see it,” Loki insisted.

“Then I’m afraid you’ll never believe it,” Daenceia said.

They headed for the food court and bought lunch.

“How long are you staying?” Daenceia asked as they sat down.

Loki unwrapped his beef roll. “I’ve missed these,” he muttered and bit in. “A few weeks,” he managed to say around his bite.

Daenceia wrinkled her nose in response. “Are you sure you’re half female?” she asked.

Loki swallowed and grinned at her. “Finally, somebody gets it,” he said teasingly.

Daenceia rolled her eyes. “Have I *ever* treated you like a sister?” she asked.

Loki shook his head. “There’s a reason I like you so much,” he said. 

At the next table, a small group of students were trying not to look as though they were watching.

“You and I are quite the sight,” Daenceia said. “The former queen and the prince’s girlfriend. I’ve been struggling to get used to it ever since the coronation.”

“I’ve been on display my whole life,” Loki said. “You learn to ignore it.”

“What about threats?” Daenceia asked. “Surely you can’t ignore them, you never know who’s innocent and who’s planning to kill you.”

“You learn to tell the difference,” Loki said confidently. “The gawkers are just annoying, but most of them are too intimidated to approach anyway.”

“I know, but sometimes I do miss my anonymity,” Daenceia said. “My spy work is over, I can help to decrypt reports, but there will be no more field work.”

“Says she who knows *illusion magic*,” Loki said, staring at her pointedly.

Daenceia rolled her eyes. “I know, I know, and once Musleen has calmed down a little I’ll suggest it, but he’s been a bit on edge since the attack in the dark forest. He’s trying so hard not to let it show too.”

“I’ll talk to him if I see him this afternoon,” Loki said. “I have an appointment to speak to King Dorgen about something.”

“What?” Daenceia asked.

“I have no idea,” Loki confessed.

****

Loki walked through the public entrance to the palace and headed for the central desk. The lady behind it saw him and waved for an escort to approach before he was even close.

“His Majesty is in his office, Your Grace,” she said. “Please go right up.”

Loki acknowledged her and made his way through to the more private areas of the palace. It felt strange to be doing this, when once he would have walked through the private entrances without a thought. He was struck by how much had changed in such a short space of time.

‘I spent two hundred and fifty years here, this was my home, and at least some of it wasn’t terrible,’ Loki thought as he walked through the corridors to King Dorgen’s office. “It feels strange to be a stranger here.’

He realised, as he walked, that he was heading to the King’s chambers, his old torture chamber. Dorgen had reportedly thrown out everything the day after the old King’s funeral, but still Loki felt his palms start to sweat as he neared the door.

It was just like going to dinner. He was here to see the King, and despite *knowing* that the King was dead, Loki still couldn’t help but feel that the old bastard was waiting for him, right behind the door.

He entered the outer chamber and sat down, trying hard not to shake as he waited. There weren’t any other supplicants waiting with him, perhaps Dorgen had dismissed them.

Or maybe the old King had made them leave, as he didn’t want his time with Loki to be disturbed.

The door opened at the far end and Loki leapt up in terror – 

But it was just Dorgen, he’d come to the door himself instead of asking a servant to do it.

“Loki?” he said. “Come in.”

Loki walked to the door, fighting the hammering in his heart as he reminded himself once again that the old King was *dead*.

Dorgen seemed to sense his feelings, or perhaps he wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding them.

“How about we take a walk?” Dorgen said. “I haven’t had any exercise today, I could use a stroll through the gardens.”

Loki knew what he was doing, but he was too grateful to care.

“Good idea,” he said, trying not to stammer. “The weather’s fine for walking.”

They turned and headed back out of the chambers. Loki tried hard not to breathe a sigh of relief. Truthfully, he never wanted to set foot in there again.

Dorgen seemed uncomfortable as they made their way to one of the private gardens. Loki wanted to ask him what the matter was, but held his tongue until they were behind the privacy of the garden walls.

“Loki, I have something difficult to discuss with you,” Dorgen said, holding himself stiffly.

He reminded Loki of Thor when he’d done something wrong and was confessing. Whatever was coming was unpleasant, but had to be done.

“What is it?” Loki asked cautiously.

Dorgen looked pained and took a deep breath.

“Your father has requested that you return to Asgard,” he said.

Loki laughed, a harsh, barking laugh that held no humour.

“He can go on requesting,” Loki said, “I’m not going back, not ever.”

He caught sight of Dorgen’s face and sobered.

“Dorgen?” he asked tentatively.

Dorgen winced and sat down on one of the garden seats, putting his head in his hands briefly before looking back up at Loki.

“He won’t bring the Barrier down unless you go back,” he said. “He’s expecting me to send you, against your will if necessary.”

Loki swallowed nervously. He wanted to trust Dorgen, but he suddenly felt the urge to check the garden for guards.

“I’m not a criminal,” he said in a whisper. “He doesn’t have the right to make that demand of you.”

“And yet he has. Loki, please believe me. I do not want to send you back, and, and I won’t. I won’t make you,” Dorgen said. “I asked you here to tell you what was happening, because without any fault of your own, you are involved.”

Loki sat on the other end of the bench and frowned in thought.

“Are you asking me to?” he asked, “so that the Barrier can come down?”

Dorgen fisted his hands into his robe and released them.

“No,” he said. “I don’t have the right to ask you to do this, Loki, I have more to tell you. Odin believes that you cursed him – “

“ – But I didn’t!” Loki exclaimed.

“I know – “

“ – I would never jeopardise my side of the oath!”

“I am aware – “

“It *wasn’t* me!”

“It was me.”

Loki stopped mid rant and stared at him.

“You?” he asked.

Dorgen nodded, his face tight.

“I cast the curse on Odin, to make him regret his actions in sending you here, to that _monster_ I am forced to call a father. I’m the reason you are in this mess and I will not ask you to get me out of it, not ever. But you need to know what Odin has demanded, because he will no doubt keep demanding it in different ways until he brings you back.”

“ _You_ gave the curse to Grandfather to deliver to Odin?” Loki said, stunned.

Dorgen had not even been on his shortlist of suspects.

Dorgen nodded. “This is my fault, Loki, I let my anger get the better of me. I would have thought that at my age, and with the mantel of king so near to my shoulders, that I would have been wiser, but I could do nothing to help you while my father lived, I wanted to see someone hurt for it, that left Odin. But it has backfired terribly, and I cannot apologise enough to you for getting you caught up in this.”

Loki looked at the ground as he considered Dorgen’s words. He was touched, truly touched, by the gesture. Cursing Odin had been foolish, but who hadn’t been a fool when their friends were involved?

“I’m afraid we may have to lift it, if it can be lifted,” Loki said.

Dorgen nodded. “I did allow myself an ‘out’, if it can be delivered. I acted like a fool but I’m not completely stupid. I need to find a way to get it to him without implicating either you *or* Vanaheim, if I can help it.”

“No, I’ll deliver it,” Loki said. “I’ll go back to Asgard, for Vanaheim’s sake, and while I’m there I’ll deliver it.”

Dorgen frowned. “That’ll just confirm his suspicions that you were involved,” he protested.

“Possibly,” Loki said in a shaking voice. “But I can’t let Vanaheim suffer because of me. I was your queen, queen’s care about their people. I’ll try to find a way to lift it without seeming to be involved, but if he still thinks that, then… then let him. I’m not planning to ever return there anyway.” 

“Loki, are you sure? You do not have to take the fall for me, I’ll find a way.” Dorgen protested. “Musleen has… uh… friends in Asgard, I’m sure they can deliver it if I ask him.”

Loki nodded. “I’m sure,” he said, looking anything but. “I’ll listen to him, and then come straight back here for the next expedition. I won’t be long at all, and then he’ll have to let the Barrier down.”

“I hope so,” Dorgen said. “If it doesn’t come down within three years Vanaheim will face changing weather patterns that will destroy our crops and starve our people.”

Loki’s mouth dropped open. “Why didn’t you tell me that?!” he exclaimed.

Dorgen looked at him steadily. “Because I refuse to force you, not even by blackmail,” he said. “I appreciate, far more than you know, your willingness to speak to Odin, but I stand by my word, Loki, I won’t make you. I’m the reason you are in this mess, I will not make you help me back out of it.”

“Does Odin know how close Vanaheim is to disaster?” Loki asked.

Dorgen just nodded, causing Loki to scowl.

“You are a good man,” Loki said, “but you need to work on your kinging.”

“My kinging?” Dorgen asked with a slight trace of humour.

Loki nodded. “You can’t put one person ahead of a whole realm,” he said. 

“Perhaps if more kings did that more often we wouldn’t be such bastards,” Dorgen suggested quietly.

Loki felt a smile curl onto his face. “I’ll tell Thor you said that,” he said. “Maybe one day the two of you can be a different type of king.”

“If there’s anything I can do to make this up to you Loki, ask, and I will grant it,” Dorgen said.

“Never shut me out of Vanaheim,” Loki said. “My family is here. No matter where I go or how long I am gone, let me come back here one day and make my home with them.”

“I swear to you that as long as I am king, you will be a citizen of Vanaheim, and welcome in my realm,” Dorgen said. “This I swear once, this I swear twice, this I swear thrice.”

****

Odin declined the invitation to visit Vanaheim, which was no more than anyone expected of him. Loki left for Asgard that day, after assuring Haewkyr that he’d be back soon. His arrival surprised not only Odin, but Thor and Frigga as well.

He appeared in Heimdall’s observatory and was halfway down the Bifrost before anyone was even aware that he had arrived.

Thor rode out to meet him, trailing another horse for Loki to ride.

“Loki!” he called out, pulling up in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to see Father,” Loki said, trying to sound calm. In his pocket he had a small crystal holding the key to ending the curse. He had to find a way to deliver it without Odin noticing. In an attempt to conceal the origin of the curse, Dorgen had put a delay on it working, so that it would fade approximately five weeks after Loki delivered it. Then Odin would no longer be plagued by the horrors that Loki went through. He’d be free to live without fear, without terror.

To Loki’s mind that seemed entirely unfair.

Thor frowned as he watched Loki reach into his pocket, pull out a small crystal, and almost mechanically throw it off the edge of the Bifrost.

“Loki? Are you all right?” he asked tentatively.

“Yes,” Loki said, sounding anything but.

“What was that?” Thor asked.

Loki shook his head; he’d gone pale as a ghost. “It was nothing,” he said in a whisper, “nothing important.”

Loki mounted up on his horse and grinned wildly at Thor. To Thor’s eyes he looked slightly unhinged.

“You don’t have to do this,” Thor said.

“Yes I do,” Loki said. “I’m doing it for Vanaheim, I’ll see him, and then I’ll go again. He shouldn’t risk Vanaheim’s future because of me.”

“Vanaheim’s future? I know they want the Barrier down, but Loki, I can arrange that one day when I am King, I know they don’t wish to delay, but – “

“They cannot afford a delay,” Loki said. “Things are worse than you know, Thor, I wish I could tell you how much worse, but I cannot betray the confidence King Dorgen has placed in me.”

“I understand,” Thor said. “But I don’t suppose you could give me a hint?”

Loki shook his head. “Even the people of Vanaheim do not know the truth, but believe me, the Barrier *must* come down, for the good of Vanaheim *and* Asgard.”

“Odin wishes to talk to you about the curse,” Thor said. “Do you have any idea who might have cast it?”

“No,” Loki lied. “None at all, which is exactly what I will tell him, he cannot get an answer from the wrong person, no matter how hard he tries.”

Thor nodded and tried to look confident, but inside he was worried. Odin was an old warrior under attack, and like any old warrior, he was going on the offensive. Thor had no idea what was going to happen, but he had a horrible feeling that Loki would suffer a bad setback in his recovery, and all because Odin refused to understand how terrible his decision had been.

****

Frigga was waiting for them at the entrance to the palace.

“He knows you’re here,” she said, drawing Loki into a hug and holding onto his tightly. “You don’t have to go, there’s still time to turn away.”

“No,” Loki squeaked, then coughed his throat clear. “No,” he said more deeply, “I have to see him, it won’t take long.”

Thor reached out tentatively and placed a hand on Loki’s shoulder. “Do you want me to go in with you?” he offered.

For a moment it looked as though Loki would say yes, but in the end he shook his head.

“No,” he said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “I need to face him alone, I won’t have you involved in this.”

“Loki – “ Thor started to say.

“No, Thor, I’m going in alone,” Loki said, although his pale face and trembling hands were betraying him.

Thor stared at him helplessly for a moment before he nodded reluctantly.

“I *will* be right outside,” he said firmly.

The corner of Loki’s mouth turned upwards.

“Let’s go then,” he said, sounding anything but confident.

****

As Loki approached Odin’s door he began to panic. What had he done?! He’d thrown the crystal off the Bifrost! The whole point of his visit was to *remove* the curse, not prolong it.

But the curse would remove itself when Odin felt guilty for what he’d done, and then apologised to Loki, and Loki *wanted* that apology, he wanted to hear Odin beg for forgiveness.

He also wanted Odin to know the suffering he’d gone through, to *feel* the horror of it on his skin. Even now, Loki could feel the filth all over him, making him feel grubby and in desperate need of a bath. He was down to two a day now, but his every waking moment was plagued with ink.

Let Odin suffer, how often did one get the chance to strike at a king?

Loki tried to look confident as he raised his fist to the door and knocked.

His first knock was weak, almost too weak to hear, but he covered it quickly with two louder ones before Thor could say anything.

“Enter,” said Odin’s voice from beyond.

“Loki?” Thor said tentatively. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes,” Loki said and pushed the door open before Thor could hear the lie in his words.

Odin’s office had changed little since Loki had last set foot in it, over two hundred and fifty years ago. It was characteristic of the man; Odin never changed something if he felt it worked. 

Odin was standing behind his desk, looking uncomfortable. Loki walked across the room and stood in front of the desk, trying to keep his hands from shaking. He clasp them together in front of him.

“Loki,” Odin said. His tone was relatively neutral, but Loki wasn’t fooled for a second. His tellings-off had always started like this.

“Father,” he said, trying to keep the tremble out of his voice.

“I accept the fact that you are not the one responsible for cursing me,” Odin said. “Your reaction the last time we spoke was… sufficiently convincing.”

Loki fought to keep a scowl off his face. ‘Sufficiently convincing’? He’d broken down into a screaming terrified wreck. Apparently that was ‘sufficiently convincing’ in the eyes of Odin.

“But there is no denying that this curse is linked in some way to you,” Odin continued. “It needs to be broken, and I expect you to assist in this.”

Loki thought of the crystal that he’d thrown away. A part of his still didn’t believe that he’d done such a thing, but he wanted Odin to *hurt*.

Instead, Odin was treating the curse like an attack, not the punishment it was meant to be. If Loki stayed and assisted in removing it, which could take years without the crystal, Odin would learn nothing. He would still be the all-powerful king who made everyone do exactly what he wanted, even when it hurt them.

No.

“I’m going back to Vanaheim,” Loki said. “Find your own damn solution.”

Oh shit. He’d really said that out loud, hadn’t he?

Odin’s face turned ugly.

“You will stay right here, boy, until this curse is lifted. If you didn’t cast it yourself then you must have some idea of who did, it is *linked* to you, and I forbid you from leaving Asgard until this curse is gone!”

Loki clenched his fists at his sides, he was shaking in fear and anger and a thousand other emotions in between.

“You dare to try and control me?” he spat. “After all I sacrificed for *your* precious peace? After all the pain I endured? The suffering? The humiliation? The only way to lift your curse is to feel, in your heart, true regret and *guilt* at what you did to me. Until then you can *suffer* as I suffered, you can *hurt* and *fear* and struggle to hide everything that’s going on inside you!”

“So you *do* know something about it,” Odin cut in, latching on to the one thing he wanted to hear amongst the pain that filled the rest of Loki’s words. “Tell me who it was.”

Loki let out a scream of fury and slammed his hands down onto Odin’s desk, making the king fall back into his seat in surprise.

“Did you not hear anything I said?!” Loki screamed. “All you are feeling is what I felt, that curse you so desperately want gone is what I lived with for TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY YEARS! And still you do not realise the worst part, the absolute worst part!”

“And what’s that?!” snapped Odin.

“That there are so many people who hate you for what you’ve done that you _can’t work out who did this to you,_ you have so many enemies and you have no idea who they all are. So many people are waiting for you to _die_ so that they can get on with their lives. You! Who would hold Vanaheim’s future to ransom just so you could once again cage your son. You! The mighty Odin, who has lost the respect of your wife, your sons, your political rivals!” Loki leaned forward, the light of madness flickering in his eyes. “You are surrounded by those who hate you when once you were loved, your own sons want nothing to do with you. For the rest of my life I will dream of being raped, I will dream of the torture I endured, and all for a chance to marry the man I love, but that old bastard has ruined me. I can’t marry Thor now, I can’t stand to be touched, kissed, I will never have children, and _you sent me there,_ you allowed this to happen. All that I am now is because of you, you and that bastard who called himself my husband. So I will be _leaving,_ your _Majesty,_ and I am never coming back. You can live with this curse for as long as I do! You can live with it forever! Because there will never be a day where I don’t think of what he did to me, there will never be a time when he doesn’t dirty my thoughts and make me flinch in fear at his memory, there will never be a peaceful moment of happiness not tainted by his presence, So you can have that too, you can live with that too, you can bloody well _die_ with that!”

The temperature in the room suddenly dropped. The lights dimmed and dark shadows began to drip down the walls.

Not dark shadows, Ink.

Odin’s eyes widened in fear. Loki looked around the room in horror.

The Ink flowed onto a point on the floor and began to well upwards.

“Make it stop,” Odin barked.

Loki shook his head. “I d-don’t know how,” he stammered.

The Ink formed into the shape of the old King, and began walking towards the desk.

Loki thought his heart would burst from fear, but as the thing walked he suddenly realised that it wasn’t looking at him.

The Ink monster walked past him and began making its way around the desk to where Odin sat…

…to where Odin was trying to rise. But he couldn’t. Ink straps were holding him into his seat.

Loki recognised the image. The Ink had formed itself into the shape of the Iron Chair.

The Ink King reached Odin’s side and lifted its leg as if to step on the side plate, which would activate the mechanism from below. Odin’s face was one of pure terror.

The Ink King began to lower its foot, only to shatter into a thousand droplets as Loki struck it from behind with the butt of Odin’s spear.

The ink vanished, and Odin shot out of his chair.

For a moment they just looked at each other, heart hammering, breathing shallow. Loki put the spear back on its stand.

“No one stopped him for me,” he said in a calmer voice. “No one. You live with it, Father, live with it as I had to. But I’ll not stay here, I’m going, now, and I’m never coming back.”

He turned and walked from the room without looking back.

Thor was standing outside, looking anxious.

“I heard yelling, are you all right?” he asked as soon as Loki appeared.

“Yes,” Loki said. He felt giddy and scared and angry and overwhelmed. “But I’m leaving, I’m not going to Vanaheim, I *leaving*.”

“But you wanted to go to the High Mountains,” Thor protested. “And what about the new baby?”

“I’ll have to make my apologies,” Loki said. “I can’t stay here, Thor, and I think if I tried to stay there Odin would just pressure them all over again to send me back. I won’t put them in that situation, they can’t send me back if I’m not there.”

“Where will you go?” Thor asked desperately.

“Beyond Yggdrasil, out into the galaxy. I don’t know where exactly, as long as I’m gone,” Loki said.

He turned to look at Thor, everything about him had gone quiet and calm. “This is right, Thor, I’m ready. I’m going to say goodbye to Mother, write a letter to our grandparents and Haewkyr, and then I will go.”

Thor looked at him sadly. “I will not try to stop you then,” he said, his voice catching just a little as he spoke. “Meet me at the Bifrost, and don’t go before I get there. I have some things for you.”

Loki nodded and headed back to Frigga’s workroom to say goodbye.

****

In less than half an hour he was at the Bifrost, watching as Heimdall delivered the letter and waited for Haewkyr to send up Lightning in return.

The horse had just arrived when Thor rode up. He had with him several large traveling bags.

“They’re for you,” he said, before Loki could ask, “Clothes and tools and weapons that you might need. I wanted you to be prepared.”

He held out the knife belt, with its exquisite set of perfectly balanced knives. Loki took it with trembling hands.

“You did this for me?” he asked.

Thor nodded, there were tears in his eyes. “I love you,” he said as he reached into his pocket and brought out a small, gold ring with a deep, green stone in the centre. “I found this on Vanaheim, in an ancient castle when I was searching for the Emerald,” Thor said. “I know I shouldn’t have taken it, it’s a part of their heritage, but… I did, and I want you to have it, because Vanaheim is a part of your heritage now too, I know that one day you may come back, but it won’t be to Asgard. Loki, no matter where you are, or where you go, or how long you are gone, even if it’s forever, I promise that I will always love you.” Thor slipped the ring onto Loki’s finger as tears began to fall down his cheeks. “And I will miss you,” he added.

Loki had tears on his cheeks as well as he accepted the ring from Thor. 

“I’ll miss you too,” he said, trying and failing to keep his voice from breaking.

Thor helped secure the travelling bags to Lightning’s saddle and watched as Loki mounted up.

“Where to?” Heimdall asked.

Loki looked back into Thor’s eyes and for a moment he longed to stay.

“Midgard,” he said instead. “I’ll start there and work my way further out.”

The Bifrost began to activate, Thor took a step back to avoid being caught in the pull.

“I love you!” he shouted to Loki as the force increased.

Loki looked back at him, the portal framed him in bright, blue light. Thor stared hard to fix the image in his mind forever, hoping desperately it wouldn’t be the last time he ever saw his lover.

“I love you too,” Loki said through his tears just before the Bifrost swept him away.

The light faded. 

Loki was gone.

Thor walked back from the Bifrost, leading the horses behind him. He didn’t feel like talking to anyone ever again.

Loki was _gone_.

“I’ll wait for you,” Thor said under his breath. “No matter how long, I will wait for you. This I swear once, this I swear twice.”

Thor took a deep breath.

“This I swear thrice.”


	51. Fifty Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Dark Stranger

He was known as the trickster, and men warned one another to be wary of him whenever he came about. Sometimes dark, sometimes fair, appearing as a harmless old man, an innocent youth, but always with deep green eyes that spoke of mischief and, sometimes, a deserving comeuppance.

Fathers warned their sons about him, sons warned *their* sons, and so it went, the stories, ever changing, ever twisting. 

They called him trickster, they said he was Hermes, or Mercury, returned from the ancient times, some said he was the coyote, or the crow, one man claimed him to be the mythical Prometheus, escaped at last from his torture. Some called him Veles, some, Anansi.

And some called him Loki.

No matter what name they gave him, no matter who they *thought* he was, all knew enough not to try and trick him. When he offered you a deal, they said, it was better not to accept, for who knew how he would turn the tables on you?

Sometimes, if you were kind, he would gift you with great bounty. But you were cruel, he would give you exactly what you deserved, in the most poetic of ways. Some people would pray to him, but he would almost certainly not answer. He was a mystery that was better to leave unsolved.

****

To say John Gerard was in trouble was putting it mildly. A Catholic in the Protestant land of England was risking death, a Jesuit priest, who had been secretly holding masses for a people for six years before being captured, was risking far more than that. He’d already been tortured more than once, although thanks be to God he had not broken and revealed the names of his friends and fellow Catholics.

He was praying now; he often did in the Tower of London as he awaited his death. God was his solace, his courage, his strength. God was-

“Would you like to get out of here?”

John looked up in surprise. There was a man in his cell. A very tall man, with black hair that fell to his shoulders and an impish smile.

“You seem to be in a spot of bother, and I thought I would help you out,” the man said. “Specifically, out of this cell.”

John wished dearly that they had left him his cross so that he might hold it out in front of him to ward of this strange man. But no, his faith was strong enough, he needed no cross.

“Are you a demon?” he asked, trying to sound brave in the face of… whatever it was.

The man shook his head. “I’m no demon, nor am I an angel. I just heard about your troubles and came to see if you wanted help,” he said.

“I don’t believe you. You could be Satan himself, sent to try me,” he challenged.

The man rolled his eyes. “Or I could be a servant of your lord,” he pointed out. “Sent here to reward you because of all your good work. I’m *not*, but I could be. No, the truth is I heard about how pissed off the rulers of this land were with you and I thought to myself… ‘Loki, what would piss them off even more?’ Then it came to me. Let you escape to continue your work! They’ll hate that, and I will enjoy it.”

“Loki?” John said. “The pagan god?”

“You’ve heard of me?” Loki asked, looking slightly pleased.

“I know you cannot be a real god, there is only one true god, and he is certainly not *you*. You are a demon, a trickster and a liar, you work for Satan himself,” John said. “I will speak to you no more.”

Loki sighed and plonked himself down beside the mortal, who was trying to ignore him as best he could.

“If I were working for Satan,” Loki said. “And I wanted to free you so that you could continue your work, then doesn’t that make Satan a supporter of Catholicism?”

John froze where he knelt. “Stop trying to trick me, demon,” he said and went back to praying.

“Orrr,” Loki continued. “I’m *not* Satan, or his demon, but a convert myself who wishes to help a fellow true believer?”

John opened his eyes and stared at Loki indignantly. “You can’t be a Catholic,” he said.

“Why not?” Loki asked pleasantly.

“You’re a pagan,” John said.

“ _Was_ a pagan, _was_ ,” Loki answered. “What can I say? I heard your sermons and those of your brethren, and frankly, John, you’ve convinced me. So I’ve come to break you out, as my lord would wish me to.”

Frankly, John was suspicious, but surely a demon couldn’t claim to be a true believer without exploding into fire and dust? Could they?

“Swear that you believe in one true god,” he challenged.

“I swear I believe in one true god,” Loki said.

No fire, no dust.

“Have you been baptised?” John asked suspiciously.

“Of course,” Loki said, looking offended. “ _Now_ will you let me help you break out of here?”

“I… suppose so,” John said.

“Good,” Loki said and waved his hand. A portal appeared.

“Hell!” John gasped.

“No, Croyden,” Loki said. “I’ve already spoken to your friend, John Arden in the next cell, he’s waiting for you on the other side.”

For a moment John was wracked with indecision, but to stay was to accept torture and death, and he *could* do more good work if he lived. He took a leap of faith and stepped through.

John Arden was indeed waiting on the other side, looking anxious. John reached forwards and clasped his arm.

“Wonderful, now you two go and do uh, good works, as many as you can,” Loki said. “But do me a favour and keep my name out of the rescue, you don’t want to be burned for accepting the help of a ‘demon’.”

“Thank you, Loki,” John said. “I hope to see you at one of my masses.”

“Nah,” Loki said. “I was lying about the Catholic thing, I just like the idea of you pissing off the establishment, like I said.”

John crossed himself hurriedly, hoping against hope that God would forgive him for accepting the help of a demonic pagan.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Loki said. “You jailer, he’ll be getting into trouble for your escape. Back in a moment.”

He disappeared through another portal, leaving the two Johns to stare at one another in horror.

A moment later he was back, dragging the jailer by the hair.

“He didn’t want to come,” Loki said, dropping him on the ground. “I noticed when I was spying on you that you had become friends, and that he didn’t want to take you to be tortured. I think it’s better if he’s here with you, don’t you?”

“Get behind me demon,” John whispered.

“I *am* behind you,” said Loki’s voice in his ear.

John yelped and turned, but there was nothing there, when he turned back Loki wasn’t in front of his either. They were alone.

“What happened?” said John Arden.

“We climbed our way to freedom,” said John flatly. 

“Out of the Tower of London?” John Arden questioned.

“Do you want to tell people the truth?” John asked.

There was silence for a while.

“So we climbed to freedom?”

“Yes.”

“With your mangled hands?”

“ _Yes._ ”

“All right then.”

Ten years after arriving on Midgard, Loki opened a portal to the very end of the galaxy and stepped through without looking back. Midgard had been exciting and fun, but he was ready to move on.

****

Lipkeyr Serxenson would one day go on to be one of the best whores in the Waystation, an orbital city above a planet that frankly had nothing to recommend it other than its central location between other, more superior worlds. Lipkeyr had worked for many years and was already quite skilled at what he did, which was why, when the young man with the dark hair who hired him, asked him to strip naked and stand with a blindfold on in the centre of the room without moving, he took it in his stride.

He thought he recognised the type. Young, not yet sure about sex, but undeniably curious. Lipkeyr stood still and listened to the sounds of the young man shifting slightly in his chair.

Maybe he’d touch himself until he came, that sometimes happened, usually a time or two before they finally worked up the courage to ask him for proper sex.

He listened as the young man moved again, Lipkeyr was quite good at figuring out what was going on by the sounds of the room, and he heard the young man approach slowly, cautiously.

He’d been quite good looking, with black hair which was kept in a plait down his back and past his shoulders, and green eyes that had looked positively terrified as he’d asked Lipkeyr for an hour of his time.

A nervous hand brushed against Lipkeyr’s body, just lightly. He held still as instructed. It seemed this young man wished to sate a curiosity of some kind.

The touch came again, a little bolder this time. Nervous fingers travelled over Lipkeyr’s buttocks and thighs, before withdrawing for a moment.

They reappeared a second later, gently parting his buttocks to see between them, before moving to the front and lifting his penis, moving it back and forth as the owner of the fingers no doubt examined him thoroughly.

He held completely still as his balls were gently touched. It wasn’t an ideal situation, Lipkeyr had become a whore because he enjoyed the wonderful art of fucking, but sometimes you had to take the good with a little boring, like now.

The young man spent half of his hour just exploring, backing off quite a bit when Lipkeyr’s penis began to fill.

“Sorry about that, Sir,” Lipkeyr said from behind his blindfold. “It’s the touching, I’ll not move though, as you instructed.”

There was silence for a minute before the man spoke.

“Does it do that even when you don’t want it to?” he asked.

Lipkeyr struggled to keep himself from chuckling. “Yes, Sir, a lot of men cannot help a reaction when they get touched, it’s nothing to worry about.”

“I didn’t,” said the young man. “I hated him and I didn’t react, but then he touched me a certain way and I did. I was wondering if that was normal?”

Ah, one of those. Sadly, it was also not entirely unusual for Lipkeyr to be hired by rape victims, curious about their bodies but at the same time unable to explore their curiosity without fear and shame.

“I’d say it sounds very normal, Sir, it’s a sensitive area after all,” he said, keeping his tone respectful. 

“Is it supposed to be fun?” the young man asked. “I’ve heard it’s supposed to be fun.”

“It’s very fun, when you do it right,” Lipkeyr said. “That’s half the reason I do it, for the fun. The other half is the money of course.”

“And you don’t care that you can’t choose your partner? What if he is horrible?” the young man asked. He had stopped his curious touching entirely and sounded far more enthusiastic that he had in the bar when he’d hired Lipkeyr half an hour earlier.

“But I can choose my partner,” Lipkeyr said. “I could have turned you down.”

“Don’t people get angry?”

“Sometimes, but I don’t turn a lot of people down. Everyone has something to recommend them, some skill or talent to bring to the bedroom. I learn as much as I teach.”

“Do you teach?”

“I do, some people come to me for pleasure, some to learn how to pleasure others. I enjoy my job.”

There was silence for a while as the young man contemplated this.

“That’s what the others said too,” he said at last.

“The others?” Lipkeyr asked curiously. “How many others have you spoken to?”

“About twenty,” the young man said. “They all gave answers similar to yours.”

“It’s true,” Lipkeyr said. “I don’t know what has happened to you, and I am not asking you to share-“

“Good.”

“-but I would like to assure you that there is nothing wrong with taking pleasure from your own body.”

“Someone already did.”

“So take it back.”

“What?”

“It’s your body, take back what belongs to you.”

“I doubt it’s that easy.”

“I’m sure it’s not,” Lipkeyr said. “But it’s something to aim for, and if you’ve hired about twenty whores and still don’t know what you’re looking for, perhaps you ought to consider trying something else.”

There was silence in the room, followed by the sound of the young man leaving in a hurry. Lipkeyr waited for a few minutes in case he returned, but there was nothing. Slowly he removed the blindfold and reached for his clothes.

He never saw the young man again, but sometimes, many years in the future, he would wonder about what happened to him, and hoped that he’d found a way to make peace with himself.

****

Far out beyond the reaches of Yggdrasil there was a planet where a beautiful princess was being held against her will by an evil man, intent on marrying her to take the throne for himself.

Until the day she climbed down from her tower prison and beat him in a sword fight, stabbing him to death in a final, dramatic lunge.

When questioned, many years later, about how she had learnt the skills to defeat her attacker, she told her children that a dark haired man had climbed in through the window and handed her a sword, before patiently spending months teaching her how to wield it.

He told her that, whenever possible, she ought to try and rescue herself, as there was never a guarantee that someone else would be around to do it for her, and she didn’t want to marry a man against her will now, did she?

The warrior queen went on to rule her land with great cunning and, when that failed, an iron fist against her enemies.

****

Sigyn was descended from some Aesir explorers, who long ago had travelled out into the galaxy to find wealth and riches among the stars. She first met Loki, the wandering god, the trickster on the wind, the earthshaker (according to one terrified world), in a dive bar in a place called Knowhere. He had arrived the day before, and already two people had tried and failed to rob him. They were dead now, Knowhere was that kind of a place.

How they got to talking she couldn’t really remember, all she knew was that they had a lot in common, anger, rage, a total disregard for any kind of authority. Loki had seidr and he wasn’t afraid to use it, or teach it. Sigyn learned a lot from him.

They travelled together for over twenty years, seeking out adventure among the stars. Over time they became good friends, some even accused them of being lovers, but Loki, while capable of great loyalty and friendship, appeared utterly incapable of losing his heart.

She remembered asking him about it one evening, not long before they parted ways.

“They say we are lovers,” she said.

“The wrong conclusion, but not an unexpected one,” he answered, with a twinkle in his eye.

“I wouldn’t mind you know,” she said after a minute. “There are times when a girl needs a little pleasure, but I know better than to ask, I may not know what it is but something is holding you back.”

Loki had sighed softly and twisted his ring around on his finger, he’d worn that ring for as long as she’d known him, going so far as to conceal it with magic those few times they were captured and stripped of all their other possessions. 

“My heart, sadly, belongs to someone far away,” he said sadly. “I had hoped that time would end my longing, but it is not to be. I think of him daily, more than daily. I’m sorry, Sigyn, I cannot give you what you seek.”

“Is he the one you write to in the evenings when you have time? I’ve seen you send your letters away by portal,” she asked.

“Yes,” Loki said after a pause. “He is the one I write to.”

Sigyn had shrugged then, keeping her manner light as she said: “I’ll find my pleasure with the best whore I can afford, you know that. I take no offence, in fact I am honoured that you would share this secret with me. You are not known for speaking about your past.”

Loki had grinned at her then, he had a lovely grin when it was natural, and real, and freely given.

“I’ve known you for twenty years, Sigyn, if I cannot share *a little* with you by now then I couldn’t dare call you a friend.”

And so that night Sigyn learned the story of Loki and Thor. She listened in horror, and, despite her hard life and rough demeanour, she ached for the pain they had endured. 

“Do you think you will ever see him again?” she asked when Loki was finished.

Loki shrugged, he looked weary with his story-telling. “I don’t know, I don’t like to think about it,” he said.

So Sigyn said nothing more on the topic, but steered the conversation away to happier things.

Four months later Loki received a letter. It was stained and battered and whatever was within it made his face pale and his hand go to his sword.

“I have to go,” he said to her, his eyes blazing with outrage.

“What is it? What has happened?” she asked him.

“This letter is from a dear friend, begging my help. Vanaheim is in trouble; I must go to them and see what I can do.”

“Then go, and do not delay,” Sigyn said. “I’ll see the Fire Queen and make our trade alone.”

For a moment Loki looked torn, but Sigyn would have none of it.

“If you love that land half as much as you claim to then you will go. The Fire Kingdom is hardly the most dangerous place I’ve ever been, I’ll be all right. Go, Loki, go and help them,” Sigyn said.

Loki hesitated no more, but concentrated hard and opened a portal. 

“Til we meet again,” he said. “It’s been a pleasure travelling with you, Sigyn.”

“I’ll see you again one day, trickster,” she said. “If I don’t hear from you in a year or so I’ll come looking.”

Loki gave her one last grin and stepped through his portal, vanishing in front of her eyes.

Sigyn did wonder if she’d ever see him again, perhaps, perhaps not, that was the way things were in the harshness of the galaxy.

But maybe one day she’d be true to her word and go looking, just as soon as she was tired of adventure.


	52. Fifty One Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Changes and Loss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, just for reference, Loki has been travelling for about 113 years.
> 
> Current ages in human years are:  
> Loki: 23  
> Camtan: 28  
> Roaseia: 4  
> Dorgen: 46.5  
> Fosxyr: 46  
> Haewkyr: 26

Loki felt the push and pull of the portal against him as he travelled. There was something wrong, it was taking far too long and the effort he was expending was much higher than it should be.

But, with a final burst of speed, he came tumbling out of the portal and onto a cleared patch of ground. Loki looked around and saw that someone had drawn runes around the co-ordinates he’d been given. For a second he was confused, surely no one would put runes down to keep him out when he’d been asked to come? But then he saw that the runes had been placed to *facilitate* his travel, not hinder it.

But why then had it been so difficult?

“Loki?” called a voice from the shadows.

Loki turned and faced the voice.

“Yes?” he queried, unsure as to what was happening. It was night time, and the area he’d landed in was lit only by the runes, which were already starting to fade as the power drained.

“I’ve volunteered to fetch you” the voice said. “My name is Cheirpyr, I’m not sure if you remember me but-“

“The lead singer from the Thunder Boys,” Loki said. “What the Hel is going on?”

A lantern sprang into life, lighting up the immediate area. Cheirpyr stepped forwards, he was wearing dark grey and green clothing, and, to Loki’s surprise, pants.

“I’ll take you to the camp, if that’s all right” Cheirpyr said. “The Cat will do a far better job of explaining things than I will, but suffice to say, there’s a new King on the throne of Vanaheim, and you’ve arrived in the midst of a civil war.”

Loki pulled his cloak around himself and, unseen, reached for his knives. “All right,” he said cautiously, “lead the way.”

Cheirpyr turned and headed off into the trees. They were surrounded by trees, extremely tall, extremely thick, trees.

“We’re in the dark forest, aren’t we?” Loki guessed as he walked carefully after Cheirpyr.

Perhaps it wasn’t night after all.

“Yes, your Grace, we had to clear a little area for your arrival, but we are in the thickest part of the dark forest. It’s impossible to penetrate with a major force, and certainly not without us finding out and scramming,” Cheirpyr said. 

“And ‘the Cat’ is in charge?” Loki questioned.

“Yes, your Grace, you’d know him better by his real name of course. He and the Hummingbird were once great friends of yours.”

“And what is his real name?” Loki asked.

Cheirpyr shook his head. “We don’t use it; we don’t use any of them, in case of spies. You’ll see soon, your Grace, well, in an hour at least, we’ve got a ways to walk.”

Loki followed him in silence, on the alert and with his knives ready the entire time. He would not put it past someone to concoct a story of false conflict to try and deceive him, although the appearance of Cheirpyr was unexpected. The Thunder Boys were enormously famous throughout four of the nine realms; it seemed odd for him to be involved in any kind of political plot.

Maybe it was an illusion? Loki stayed on his guard as he followed Cheirpyr deeper into the forest.

****

It took just over an hour to reach the ‘Camp’, as Cheirpyr called it. Loki could tell when they’d arrived because he started making out a soft glow of light in the distance.

Hanging lights were strung between the trees from branch to branch. It was still dim, but there was enough light to walk without stumbling. Tents were set up everywhere, wherever there was space, and the light that spilled out from them was a lot stronger than outside. Loki could hear talking and even muffled laughter as Cheirpyr led him through the camp to an area with a larger, square tent, more like a pavilion set up than camping equipment. The material was a lot thicker and would have been brightly coloured in the light. On the outside, runes to prevent sound escaping were drawn all over it. Loki hung back suspiciously.

“The Cat should be in here,” Cheirpyr said, and stuck his head through the flap.

Loki couldn’t hear what he said, because of the runes, but a second later he pulled his head back and shot Loki a smile.

The flap opened to reveal Camtan, wearing the same rough and dark clothing as Cheirpyr, and looking older and weary. He had a big scar down the right side of his face, right across the forehead and cheek, although his deep-set eyes had spared him his sight, whatever had caused the injury must have only just reached him with the tip of the blade. It was still a shock though, to see that such an easily healed injury had been left to scar.

“Cam-“ Loki started to say, but Camtan held up a hand. 

“It’s ‘Cat’,” he said. “Come in, and I’ll explain everything.”

Loki followed him into the tent. It was clearly the centre of some kind of operation, with papers and maps pinned to the walls. A low table sat in the centre of the room, and Camtan sat cross-legged on one side of it.

“It’s good to see you, Loki,” Camtan said.

“And you, but what the Hel is going on?” Loki asked.

Camtan’s face was hard as he shifted into a more comfortable position.

“We’re at war. Dorgen has lost the throne in a coup, Fomalen is the King now. Do you remember him?”

Loki’s eyes narrowed. “I remember that he seemed like a bumbling fool,” he said. “I can believe that he fooled me, I was ah… quite distracted at the time, but I can’t believe that he fooled Musleen.”

“He didn’t, not completely,” Camtan said, his voice harsh. “It’s best that you hear the whole story in order. Fomalen fled Vanaheim after upsetting the old King. He made a lot of money very quickly and did a rather poor job of hiding it. The King seized his assets the moment he was gone, leaving him with almost nothing. But Fomalen is not a man to allow such setbacks to discourage him, he set up a new factory with the last of his money and made his wealth back, this time in Asgard, where the King couldn’t touch him. He waited there for centuries until the King died, then, using Dorgen’s coronation as a good excuse, came back to survey the lay of the land. He wanted the throne, possibly as revenge for being treated so badly, or perhaps he always wanted it and that was the true reason he was stripped of his wealth. It doesn’t matter so much now, what matters is that Fomalen had learnt patience.

He introduced himself as a good-natured, socially foolish, but otherwise shrewd businessman. He made a spectacle out of his appearances in court, nothing outrageous, just enough for most to disregard him. In the meantime his agents were filtering throughout the land, getting into position.”

“But Musleen wasn’t fooled?” Loki questioned. “He wouldn’t be by such an act.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Camtan said quietly. “He investigated this forest on the quiet, and realised that the whiskey you found on your trip had been planted. The portal too, Fomalen is brilliant at them, truly powerful at seidr, he opened one on purpose and dropped Musleen straight through. It was all to raise his suspicions that someone was using the area as a base for illegal activity. I believe the idea was to distract him with a false chase. But Musleen was cleverer than that. He figured out that the clues were false, and he had started to close in on the culprit. That’s why Fomalen acted when he did. I don’t believe he was quite ready, as a result, we were able to escape and begin fighting back.”

“Escape?” Loki asked. “What happened?”

“Fomalen attacked on Musleen’s wedding day. Before he and Daenceia were able to say their vows, he threw a throwing knife at Dorgen. His supporters planted in the crowd then drew their swords.”

“Is Dorgen all right?” Loki asked, looking anxious.

Camtan’s face took on a pained look.

“Dorgen is alive and running one of our other camps in the south,” he said, before taking a shuddering breath. “Musleen… Musleen intercepted the blade. It hit him in the chest. Musleen is dead. Fomalen killed him.”

Loki felt as though the air had gone out of the room. Musleen dead? No. It didn’t seem possible. But Camtan’s face was lined with pain, and Loki knew that look of grief, he’d seen it in Fosxyr’s eyes when he’d thought of his sister, in Haewkyr’s eyes when he’d spoken of the horses.

In Thor’s eyes, when Loki had said goodbye.

“What happened then?” Loki asked, trying to absorb the fact that one of his dearest friends was gone forever.

Camtan blinked hard, pulling himself together. “Musleen’s guards got us out. I drew my sword and tried to kill Fomalen for what he’d done, and damn near lost my life at the hands of one of his men, but Burtchen killed my attacker and dragged me clear. Musleen’s quick action startled Fomalen and his men, who expected Dorgen to fall and for chaos to aid them in finishing off the rest of us, and the servant’s passages did the rest. We were out of the palace before they realised.”

“Why did you have to flee? Surely he couldn’t have had that many guards in the place?” Loki asked.

Camtan scowled. “He didn’t need all that many in the palace, not when a simultaneous action across the realm took over all the major power centres, all the food stockpiles and, of course, he already had most of the weapons.”

“So he controlled the realm in a single action?” Loki asked, shocked.

Camtan shrugged. “It’s been done before, and he had a lot of men stationed secretly. He wasn’t afraid of moving slowly, most of them had worked where they were for over a decade, some up to fifty or even eighty years. Fomalen laid his plans very carefully, but he had yet to take over the servants in the palace. He didn’t have enough agents working there to stop us escaping.”

“Who got out?” Loki asked.

“Everyone else. Burtchen and Musleen’s men saw to that, although many of them lost their lives in the fighting. They had lost their leader, and it seemed many of them were happy to follow him to Valhalla. Dorgen, we call him the Dog, and Mulmyr, otherwise known as the Steel Lady, or Steel, were taken immediately to the safe house Musleen had set up. I told you that he suspected Fomalen? Well, he also suspected that things were not going to go our way. He didn’t have enough proof that Fomalen was planting his men everywhere, and couldn’t investigate to the level he needed without acting like a tyrant, so instead he began planning our counterattack.”

“Musleen planned a counterattack before he was actually attacked?” Loki asked.

The corner of Camtan’s mouth turned upwards. 

“Yeah, he did things like that,” he said in a fond, but sad, tone. “He always had backup plans, and backup plans to his backup plans. This place was already waiting for us when we arrived. Once he figured out that there was no one in the dark forest, he set up a base camp. There’s another one in the south somewhere, another in the west, and one central one. There’s minor camp in the north, but their main job is to make a lot of noise to distract from the rest of us.”

“How long have you been fighting?” Loki asked.

“Forty three years,” Camtan said. “We’ve made gains,” he added as Loki gasped. “But recently things haven’t been going all that well, he's been anticipating our moves far better, it's like he's reading our minds. But then, ten years ago you sent Lightning back to your grandparents’ place, with a note asking them to take care of him while you travelled on some ship through space. We realised that you had the power to punch through the shield.”

“Shield, what shield?” Loki asked.

“Fomalen put up a shield around the whole realm. It’s huge, and powered by massive seidr crystals that he secretly put into position underneath his weapons factories that he’d been building here since he returned to Vanaheim. It took him decades to get everything into position, but now no one can get in or out, no message can get through, and even the Heimdall’s gaze has been blocked.”

“But surely Asgard would notice that the entire realm has shut down?” Loki said.

“Oh, they noticed, but Fomalen activated the quarantine beacon. It sent an automated message to all the realms telling them that Vanaheim is in the grip of a deadly plague and to stay away until the ‘all clear’ beacon is sent. They know we’re in blackout, but they think it’s because of illness, we’ve been on our own this whole time.”

Loki felt a stab of worry. Asgard imported over half its food from Vanaheim, a sudden quarantine would leave the people of Asgard on immediate rations, and the very poor would most likely starve.

“I’m surprised that Odin did not investigate it,” Loki said. 

“Odin hadn’t been running things for a while,” Camtan said. “Not for close to sixty years now. He’s still the King for all public appearances, but in private all the work of the realm has been done by Prince Thor. From what Musleen’s spies reported, Odin appears to be suffering from some kind of mental illness, he can’t be left alone for any length of time.”

Loki very carefully did not move a muscle on his face.

“So you called me back, hoping I could help you?” he asked.

Camtan sighed. “I know it’s a lot to ask, you left here so suddenly, and I wasn’t sure if you ever wanted to set foot here again, but I had to try. Hummingbird said you’d come.”

“Hummingbird?”

“Haewkyr, we wanted to call him the Hawk, but he wanted a harmless-sounding name, something ridiculous, so that Fomalen’s men would have to post notices saying that they wanted ‘The Hummingbird’ dead or alive. His reward’s up to ten thousand gold coins now,” Camtan said. “He works out of this camp, and he’s due back soon. He runs our communications via a massive animal network. It’s incredible, although it keeps him off the front lines which he hates.”

“Are my grandparents okay? Is Daenceia?” Loki added in a tentative tone.

Camtan nodded. “Your grandparents remain on their lands, they have officially recognised the new king, as all nobles had to, to keep their possessions, but they, and their whole family, have been supplying us with food and weapons. Daenceia is here, it was she who drew the runes that helped you punch through Fomalen’s shield. She’s known as the Prince’s Widow among the commoners of the city, although her code name is actually ‘Taps’ because of her light feet. She’s out on a raid right now, but is expected back in seventeen more hours.”

“I’m glad she’s okay,” Loki said, his thoughts drifting back to Musleen.

He’d been dead for forty three years; the knowledge felt like a punch to Loki’s stomach.

“Your mother grabbed her and pulled her to safety, she would have gone down fighting otherwise,” Camtan said.

“Mother was there?” Loki asked, alarmed.

Camtan frowned. “I thought you knew?” he said. “Queen Frigga left Odin about two years after you went travelling. She returned home and took a post as one of Queen Mulmyr’s ladies in waiting. I thought someone must have told you.”

“I moved around at random,” Loki said. “No one knew where to send me letters half the time, and portals are tricky enough without using them to send pieces of paper. I used them, but only because there were no other good ways, besides, I know what I am doing. Yours was the first letter I ever received, and frankly, I was surprised that you found me.”

“Homing runes,” Camtan said. “I don’t really understand the seidr behind it, but Taps said that, with your grandmother’s amulet around your neck, she could use the existing connection to reach you, assuming we could punch through the portal. She pieced together how by reverse-engineering your spell to send Lightning here.”

“She’s damn clever,” Loki said. He hesitated, before asking the question that had popped into his mind. “Where are Sofftia and the children?”

“Safe,” Camtan said, sounding painfully sad. “They are in hiding, in a safe place far from here.”

“How long has it been since you saw them?” Loki asked quietly.

Camtan’s eyes filled with tears, but he blinked hard and refused to let them spill over. 

“Forty three years,” he said. “Since the night Musleen died. His men separated us, at the time it was at my request, I wanted to help fight back, but the camps are for fighters, they were not safe enough for children. Sofftia went south with Dorgen before going onwards to another place, where they are hidden by magic and guarded day and night, Hummingbird tells me that Roaseia talks to the birds and still mentions me, but Kietyr was only a baby, not even talking yet. He’s starting to walk now, apparently, and he’s saying ‘Ma’ and ‘No’.”

“Kieyr? It’s a good name,” Loki said, trying to distract Camtan a little from his heartache.

“Kietyr Loki Flouffen Camtanson,” Camtan said with a sad smile. “I wasn’t all that fond of Flouffen, but it’s a Fetatheren family name.”

“Loki?” Loki said.

“I wanted him to have a strong name, and I couldn’t think of anyone I know who’s stronger,” Camtan said.

“Thank you for the honour,” Loki said in a thick voice. He swallowed hard to clear the lump in his throat. “Tell me, where is my mother now?”

“In the south, with Dog and Steel,” Camtan said. “She’s done good work, from what Hummingbird hears through the animal network.”

Loki smiled a little at that. “I don’t doubt it,” he said.

Camtan looked at him seriously, it was such an odd look on his face, like a stranger had taken over. Loki thought he looked more like Musleen around the eyes. 

“Loki, there is one more thing I must tell you, it affects you directly, and, if afterwards you don’t want to stay I won’t blame you. I’ll help you leave back through the portal,” he said.

Loki frowned. “What is it?” he asked.

“Our spies in the palace tell us that, once the Resistance is eliminated, Fomalen plans to ask Odin for your hand in marriage, to help reaffirm Vanaheim and Asgard’s relationship.”

In the tent, Camtan suddenly shuddered as the temperature dropped by ten degrees.

“I will *never* agree to such a thing,” Loki said in a voice like ice.

For the briefest of seconds his eyes almost seemed to glow red in the golden light.

“I know, and maybe Odin won’t either, Prince Thor definitely won’t. But if Fomalen wants you as a wife and discovers you here on Vanaheim, you may well be in danger of a marriage against your will, or worse, imprisonment away from the eyes of Heimdall, kept as Fomalen’s private whore. I won’t blame you if you don’t want to risk it,” Camtan said. “No one would.”

Loki was silent for a long time. His gaze was hard and focussed at a point that only he could see.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said. “I appreciate the honesty. I will stay and fight. Dorgen, I mean, the Dog, promised me that as long as he was king I would be a citizen of Vanaheim and be allowed to live here with my family. I consider this realm my home, and I wish to fight for my home. Tell me what you need me to do.”

Camtan reached out and clasped Loki’s wrist.

“Thank you,” he said seriously. “We have a Hel of a fight ahead of us.”

Loki’s mouth twitched.

“So, we’re the Resistance now?” he asked.

“Yup,” Camtan said wryly, “Who’d have thought it?”


	53. Fifty Two Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunions, Good and Bad

Haewkyr returned to the camp a few hours after Loki’s arrival. He went straight to central command with the news from the birds.

“Loki!” he exclaimed with a big grin when he entered. “You made it! I told Cat you’d come but I wasn’t sure how long it would take you.”

Loki turned from where Camtan was explaining the setup of the bases and the main objectives of the resistance.

“Haew- I mean, Hummingbird, it’s good to see you,” he said and clasped Haewkyr’s hand.

“Getting used to the new names already? Good,” Haewkyr said. “They say Fomalen’s placed a bounty on all of us, and he’ll pay dearly for our real names so that he can go and intimidate our families.”

Loki scowled. “That bastard has tight control over everything,” he said.

“The capital and its surrounds, certainly,” Camtan said. “The outer areas still believe that we are in quarantine, which is why the bulk of the army is still quietly taking orders from him.”

“They don’t know what happened?” Loki asked.

“Fomalen sent the signal to stay away, he also informed them via the communications network that we were all dead. The generals are helping the outer communities to manage while they wait to hear that everything is clear. We’ve tried to get word to them, but quarantine rules forbid travel, and Fomalen controls all of the main communication channels, we’re reduced to individual devices to talk to each other, but no one can get one through to the army,” Camtan said. 

“We tried,” Haewkyr said. “I asked the rabbits, but they couldn’t make it past the hot plains, and the animals there were not inclined to help without my magic to explain what the rabbits needed.”

“I was hoping that maybe you could help,” Camtan said to Loki. “If you can send the Dog to the outer edges of the realm then the generals will see that Fomalen has been lying, they can mobilise, and take back the realm by force.”

“A lot of commoners are going to suffer for that plan,” Haewkyr pointed out.

Camtan’s face was hard. “I know, if you’ve got a better idea I’d love to hear it,” he said.

“I’m working on it,” Haewkyr said. 

Loki winced at the tension in the tent. “We’ll need to tell the army anyway, they should know not to take orders from Fomalen,” he said. “It’s Dor- I mean, the Dog’s decision whether a full scale attack should go ahead.”

Haewkyr pulled a face but said nothing. Camtan sighed.

“I was hoping that you could bring him here. We’ve been talking using the amulets, but it’s been over a decade since we last had a proper summit,” he said. 

“I’ll need to study this shield,” Loki said. “I had trouble getting through, and that was with the runes helping me from this side.”

“Did you use runes when you sent Lightning back?” Haewkyr asked.

“Yes,” Loki said. “Normally I wouldn’t, but I wanted him to arrive somewhere where he’d be found and taken care of. I used runes to place him exactly in the yard in front of the castle. I remember that it was tough going, but I thought it was down to distance, I was quite far away from Vanaheim at that point.”

“Without the runes the portal would have most likely failed. The shield is powerful enough to stop the Bifrost, according to Taps, and that gets through practically anything,” Camtan said.

“I always knew you were special,” Haewkyr said, throwing an arm around Loki’s shoulders. “There’s a lot of power in that skinny body of yours.”

“I’m not skinny,” Loki protested as Haewkyr grinned at him.

“You’re all skinny, the whole damn lot of you,” Haewkyr teased. “I feel like I’d crush any one of you if I leaned the wrong way.”

Loki rolled his eyes, pleased that Haewkyr at least was no different to how he used to be, by contrast, the hardness in Camtan’s eyes was unsettling.

“Do you have any rune books?” Loki asked. “I will need to study the shield and work out which runes will help me open and hold open the portals.”

“Taps has a heap, Hummingbird will show you to her tent,” Camtan said.

He was already reaching for Haewkyr’s report, from where he’d placed it on top of a stack on the side table.

“Come on, Loks,” Haewkyr said, gesturing that they should leave Camtan alone.

Loki followed him outside.

“Loks?” he queried.

“Needle said that if you came you’d need a codename, she suggested it,” Haewkyr said.

“Needle?” Loki asked. “Do you mean…?”

“Sharp little thing, and damn good at illusions to boot; she’s with Taps on the raid,” Haewkyr said as they walked through the dimly lit camp.

“I haven’t seen her in so long,” Loki said. 

“She said to tell you, if you arrived while she was gone, that she married the drummer, whatever that means,” Haewkyr said.

Loki grinned. So Shiarpia had wed her childhood crush. Well, if anyone was going to manage that it *would* be her.

They reached a medium-sized tent with the flap tied down.

“Technically this is the library,” Haewkyr said. “But Taps sleeps here as well, she said it made more sense than wasting the space. We have as many books as we were able to acquire for her. She, Needle and the other mages work hard trying to find spells to help us in our fight.”

Loki ducked inside, Haewkyr followed, and activated the light-spell by waving his hand above the main crystal inside the opening. The library lit up with a cheery glow.

“There’s some good stuff in here,” Loki said, scanning the piles of books. “Where did they all come from?”

“The Tower, mostly, the mages stole as many as they could before making a run for it. Most made it, some were not so lucky,” Haewkyr said.

Loki turned to face him.

“Were they mine?” he asked. “My scholarship students?”

“Yes. They had no protection from Fomalen. The noble’s children were okay as long as their parents swore allegiance, but the commoners, they were all cast out. The lucky ones returned to their families and began to work in shops or as tradesmen and women, but your students, they had nowhere to go but back to the streets. They took to fighting instead,” Haewkyr said.

Loki turned away and blinked hard. All he’d ever tried to do was give them a chance to excel, and instead they were dying for want of protection.

“We’re going to win,” Haewkyr said. “One way or another, we’ll take the bastard down.”

“Yes,” Loki said, “we will.”

Haewkyr hesitated for a moment before speaking again.

“Loki, I’m not sure if Cat told you, but Fomalen’s got plans for you,”

“He told me, Fomalen wants a marriage to bind Asgard and Vanaheim, probably to give his regime some legitimacy through inter-realm recognition,” Loki said. “Well he’s wasting his time there. Odin gave his word that he wouldn’t send me to anyone else even if I should wish to take my time with Thor. I’m spoken for, just not publically.”

“And he won’t break his promise?” Haewkyr asked.

Loki shook his head. “He’s never done that, ever, he’s a bastard, but if he gives someone his word he won’t back out of it,” he said.

“There’s still a chance that Fomalen’ll want you on a personal level. We’re not sure how attracted he is to you, but many years ago I saw something that made me worry. I want you to know what you might have to fear from him,” Haewkyr said.

He took a sudden step back at the expression on Loki’s face.

“Frankly, Hummingbird,” Loki said in an icy tone as the temperature in the tent dropped considerably, “I think he ought to be afraid of me. I’ve got no oath holding me down, no promise that must be kept. I will make so much trouble and mischief he’ll wish he’d never laid eyes on me, he’ll wish I’d never been _born._ I imagine that there is a long line of people wishing to avenge Musleen’s death, but I’m here now, and they’ll have to wait their turn.”

Loki paused and thought for a second.

“Except for Daenceia,” he added. “Ladies first.”

****

Loki spent the next day researching the shield. He started with Daenceia’s notes, and was just finishing with them when the woman herself appeared in the camp.

She was wearing the same dark clothes as everyone else, her hair was cut shorter and tied back into a ponytail, and her face was thinner and harsher than Loki remembered.

He stepped forward out of the shadows and was pleased to see her face light up.

“Loks!” she exclaimed and hugged him.

“That’s really going to stick, isn’t it?” Loki grumbled good-naturedly.

“Damn right it is,” said a voice from behinds Daenceia. “Good to see you, Loks.”

It was Shiarpia, still small and shapely, still with her pretty, if somewhat pointed face and golden hair.

“Needle, yes?” Loki said.

“Indeed, Taps here thought it up, I can’t imagine what she was thinking of,” Shiarpia said, giving Loki a hug.

They had reached an understanding of sorts just after the old King’s funeral, but they had never really been friends like that had once been. It seemed strange to see her giving such a casual nod to Camtan as he came out of his tent, but then she was his cousin, and if she was fighting for Vanaheim, then Loki could bring himself to forgive and forget.

“How did it go?” Camtan asked.

“We had some trouble with the patrols, they’d been changed again,” Shiarpia said. “But we managed to get through anyway and plant the device. It detonated and destroyed the weapons stockpile Fomalen was keeping there. We all made it back, and with a good supply of weapons stolen on our way out. He won’t be able to work out whether any were taken, the ground was a puddle of melting metal by the time the fire went out.”

“Good. But why were the patrols changed? He’s been rotating them every week on schedule for months, suddenly he changed things on the night of a raid? We need answers, or we’re going to lose more people,” Camtan said.

“Maybe he just anticipated the attack, we need weapons, he has weapons, the night was a good one for a raid,” Daenceia said.

Camtan scowled. “We used to make gains, we used to avoid capture every time, if he’s anticipating our movements then he’s gotten a lot better at it.”

“Maybe he has a new strategist?” Loki suggested.

Camtan frowned. “Our spies in the palace say he doesn’t. He started spending more time pouring over his spell-books in his rooms about ten years ago, around the same time we started losing more than we were winning, maybe he found something there to help him, but there is no way to tell.”

Camtan turned away, frustration evident in every movement.

Daenceia took a deep breath. “Well, *tonight* was a success, I’m thankful for that. We’ll figure out how he’s managing to stay ahead of us, and if we don’t, well-“ she clapped a hand onto Loki’s back – “we have a game-changer right here. If he’s better at this than we are, we’ll change the rules on him.”

Camtan’s face softened again.

“You’re right,” he said in a calmer tone. “Tonight is worth celebrating at least, and Loks has agreed to stay and help; things will get better soon.”

Loki watched as Camtan turned away and wondered if, after forty three years of fighting and loss, he would turn just as negative in his thinking.

****

Loki had obtained a bed in Haewkyr’s tent, which was shared with four other men. It was a two man tent, which made for some careful scheduling of guard duty.

“I sleep outside a fair amount of the time,” Haewkyr revealed. “I’m used to it, and if you take six steps away from the camp you’re in total darkness anyway. But officially I bed down here. You can take my bedroll too, I don’t use it.”

“Thanks,” Loki said, crawling on top of the roll. “I’ll go back over Daenceia’s shield spell notes when I’ve slept. It’s a powerful spell, but worse than that, it’s a complicated one. Once cast I don’t think simply taking out one of the crystals will cause it to lose power.”

“I know it won’t, we hit one of those suckers early on, almost as soon as we learnt of their existence. I think he’s replaced it since, but we took it down and precisely nothing happened, no word from Asgard showing that they knew what was going on, no sudden increase in the number of people trying to escape Vanaheim, nothing,” Haewkyr said.

Loki nodded. “It seems that multiple crystals will have to be taken down, either at once, or so quickly that Fomalen is unable to replace them in time.”

“We thought of that, we even tried it, but he was too fast for us. We think he’s using far more crystals than he needs to as well. Daenceia thinks that almost half of them are simply spares, we don’t have the weapons or the manpower to take that many down so quickly,” Haewkyr said. “But get some sleep, you’ve been up for ages. You’re here now, and pretty soon you’ll have a job to do.”

“Transporting the Dog to the edge of the realm, I know,” Loki said. “Any luck on that alternative plan?”

“Not yet,” Haewkyr sighed. “I know the Cat doesn’t want to do it, but it’s been forty three years of hard fighting and unmourned grief, he’s willing to make a hard choice.”

“Is the Dog?” Loki asked.

Haewkyr shrugged. “I’ve no idea,” he said. “But I hope not, not yet, not when most of the commoners in the firing line don’t truly know what’s happening. I keep thinking that if we could access the communications network then we could tell everyone, including the army. It would give the common people a chance to get out of the way at least.”

“Where is the control for the communication network?” Loki asked, already anticipating the answer.

“In the palace,” Haewkyr said, “right at the heart of the enemy.”

“We could still find a way,” Loki said. “There’s servant’s corridors, and concealment spells. I’ll work on it.”

Haewkyr grinned at him.

“It’s good to see you again,” he said. “And it’s good to see you so well.”

Loki took a deep breath.

“I’ve had a lot of adventures since you last saw me, I’ve… had a lot of questions answered, and I feel more like *myself*. There are still moments when I don’t feel well, but I’m a lot better than I was when I left,” he said.

“I’m glad of that, let me know if you need a field shelter though and I’ll knock you up one,” Haewkyr said with a gentle smile.

Loki returned it. “Will do,” he promised and settled down to sleep.

****

Loki was woken by shouting. He scrambled out of the tent, already looking around for the threat. It was Shiarpia, and she was shouting for Haewkyr and Daenceia to come to the central command tent at once.

She caught sight of Loki standing there and waved her arm. 

“You too, Loks, come on!” She shouted.

Loki ran to the tent where Camtan was listening in on a communication amulet.

“Half of us have been wiped out, they knew everything, everything except the back tunnel we put in, all other ways in and out were covered,” said Dorgen’s voice from the amulet.

Loki felt a stroke of fear go through him, Frigga was with Dorgen, and it sounded as though their base had been compromised. If that were true, she might be dead.

“Where are you now?” Camtan asked. His face was lined with concern and his eyes were wide with fear.

“Heading up to the top peak of the High Mountains, they’re following us. We can’t move fast, although neither can they, but we can’t lose them either, we’ll never make it far enough ahead to conceal ourselves,” Dorgen said. “They’ll see us vanish under an invisibility spell.”

Loki could hear his breathing start to labour as he spoke. Hurrying up the High Mountains was a bad idea.

“Cammi, you might have to take over operations,” Dorgen wheezed.

“No,” Camtan said, his voice sticking in his throat as Haewkyr and Daenceia entered the tent. “Dog no.”

“You can do it, Noilasti will cover the west, get him… on the… throne,” Dorgen panted.

There were tears in Camtan’s eyes. Loki saw Daenceia twist the hems of her sleeves together as she listened.

Loki had to do something, he wasn’t ready, but Dorgen was dying, and if his mother had made it out of the base then *she* was dying.

Loki grabbed the amulet from Camtan’s hand and focussed hard on creating a portal.

There was a rush of freezing air and the far wall of the tent became a vision of white. Loki saw Dorgen look up in shock and… fear?

The men and women around him raised their weapons.

“Dog! It’s us!” screamed Camtan. “Come on!”

Realisation came over their features, and the remains of the southern camp began to scramble over the snow to reach the portal. Shiarpia turned and began yelling orders for healers to come to the central command tent as Daenceia and Haewkyr helped Camtan pull them through. 

Loki’s head felt like it was in a vice. He felt as though his brains were being crushed by the power of the shield as it fought his magic.

More people struggled over the threshold, Dorgen was on the other side, waving them through. Loki could see Mulmyr helping someone to walk, but his vision was getting spots in it.

“Cat,” he yelled. “Hurry! I can’t-“ he broke off, the effort of keeping the spell going was too much to allow him to talk.

Unnoticed by Loki as he fought he pain, blood began to flow from his nose.

A hand grabbed his and Loki felt a boost in power. The vice lessened slightly, but it was still far too much pressure, his head felt like it was going to implode.

Through his pain filled gaze, Loki saw his mother, she was carrying a young woman across her back.

“Moth-“ he managed. He wanted to call out to her, to tell her to hurry, but he couldn’t, he was sliding towards the floor, his vision was going dark, the pain was incredible.

Camtan got sick of yelling at his brother, who was still helping people through from the snow side. He leapt across the portal and grabbed Dorgen by the arm. He and Mulmyr yanked Dorgen over the threshold a split second before Loki lost control of the portal.

It closed, the traces of snow on the ground the only evidence it had even been there.

Loki lay on the floor beside Daenceia. They were both bleeding from their noses and eyes. Camtan rushed over to them, but was beaten by a healer.

“They’re all right,” she said. “I mean, they will be, they came dangerously close to burning out, and the shield would have crushed their skulls if Daenceia hadn’t forced Loki to stop.”

“Is that what she did?” Camtan asked.

“Yes, the traces of her spell are still around her. She helped him at first, but then pulled him back before he could die. He doesn’t yet realise the power of the shield,” she said.

“He does now,” Camtan said. “I was rather hoping he wouldn’t have learnt by personal experience.”

“Me too, although he always was one for jumping in,” said the healer. “I’ll fix them both up and let them rest.”

“Thank you, Thainia,” Camtan said.

“Thinman, remember Cat?” she corrected him.

“Oh yes, my apologies, I forgot you’d started to go on raids,” Camtans said. “Thank you, Thinman.”

Camtan turned to face his brother, who was sitting on the floor gulping air.

“Never scare me like that again,” he said in his best ‘father’ voice.

“I’ll try not to,” Dorgen gasped. 

He took a few more gulps of air. “Is that Loki?” he asked, confusion on his face as he struggled to focus.

“Ah, well, we were going to tell you at our next communication,” Camtan said. “We’ve got a mage on our side who knows a thing or two about portals.”

Dorgen looked up at him with bleary eyes.

“Oh,” he said. “Good.”


	54. Fifty Three Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grief and New Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm tired, it's late, I'll answer your comments on the last chapter tomorrow.

Loki’s eyes opened slowly. There was a cloth roof above him in shades of grey and dark blue. In Loki’s opinion this was far too bright and ought to be banned. He groaned and closed his eyes again. Something had happened, but whatever it was floated on the edge of his recollection and it seemed like far too much effort to try and recall it.

“Loks?” said a voice, vaguely familiar and gentle in its tone.

It was still too loud. Loki shut his eyes tighter in the vain hope that this would somehow make the voice go away.

“Loks, I know you’re awake,” she said.

Loki cracked an eyelid and managed to focus on Thainia’s face.

“M’ dead,” he muttered, and closed it again.

“You are not dead, although you came damn close. I’m amazed that you even opened a portal unaided, let alone hold it open for so long,” she said. “I’ve got some medicine for you, it’ll ease the pain in your head, now let me help you sit up slightly so you can take it.”

Portal?

Portal… tent?

Portal… tent… resistance…

_Mother_

Loki sat up so fast the world spun and he almost fell out of his bed. He clutched the side hard with both hands as Thainia grabbed his shoulders and forced him back.

“I said slightly,” she hissed at him and pushed him back down.

“Mother,” Loki gasped. “Where’s my mother?”

“Take this and I’ll fetch Camtan, he has more information than I do,” Thainia said, forcing a cup to Loki’s lips.

Loki swallowed the mixture and closed his eyes again as the world refused to stop spinning. He grabbed hold of the edges of the bed and gripped tightly, certain that he’d fall any minute.

He heard Thainia call for someone to fetch Camtan and wondered why she’d bother. If Frigga had made it through the portal then nothing would stop her being by his side while he recovered. She should have been here, but she wasn’t, therefore she was…

Camtan was coming to tell him about yet another loss, and Loki didn’t want to hear it.

A few minutes later the spinning finally eased and Loki gingerly let go of the sides of the bed. He heard a swish of fabric followed by Camtan’s low voice.

Loki opened his eyes as Camtan approached the bed.

“Hey Loks,” he said gently. “I’ve been speaking to your mother.”

What?!

“Where is she?” Loki gasped.

“She’s still in the High Mountains, she and a few others didn’t make it through the portal in time, but as it closed she threw an invisibility spell over the stragglers. She said she had hoped that their pursuers had been far enough away not to realise, well, they got lucky. Fomalen’s men saw the portal and assumed everyone made it, they grabbed the dropped packs to search later for clues, but didn’t realise that six people were standing less than twenty feet from where they were.”

“But they can’t survive out there for long,” Loki said. “I have to bring them here.”

“No!” shouted Thainia from across the room, making Loki groan in pain at the raised volume. “You are far too weak right now, it’ll kill you before the portal even opens,” she said in a more normal voice.

“Your mother and the others still have their emergency scramble packs, they’ve got tents and food supplies for a little while yet. She said they would head down the old road, there’s a branch off to the west that we found when we explored it years ago. It’s easier to navigate than trying to head east, and more sheltered as well. They’re going to ration their food and head down in the hope of circling around Fomalen’s men and maybe even meeting up with the western base. Noilasti has been informed and will send someone to help them if he can, he’s got at least two loyal Lords along the western road who will give them shelter.”

Loki opened his eyes again, his head was still throbbing. 

“I don’t like it,” he muttered, “it’s not safe enough.”

“Vision knows the risks, that’s Frigga’s codename by the way, she said to tell you to concentrate on becoming stronger so that you can help end this war, also to eat your vegetables. I’m assuming that’s a joke?” Camtan said.

Loki smiled through the pain. “An old, bad joke, she’s just trying to tell me that she cares,” he managed.

He peered up at Camtan through one eye, trying to reduce the amount of light he had to endure.

“Noilasti will take good care of her, won’t he? He won’t forget she’s on the road and heading towards him?”

“Never,” Camtan swore. “He’ll get to her as soon as he can. I spoke to him this morning and he’s already making arrangements.”

“I still don’t like it,” Loki muttered, “but I can’t open both eyes at the same time right now, so I will have to trust you.”

Camtan reached forwards and clasped Loki’s shoulder. “You saved fifty two people,” he said. “Trust me when I say we will do everything we can to keep your mother safe.”

“So no leaping off the bed before you are ready,” Thainia cut in. “Try and get some sleep, I’ll wake you when it’s time for more medicine.”

“Healers,” Loki grumbled. “Who gave you the power to tell me what to do?”

Thainia smiled, although he couldn’t see her. “You did,” she said. “Now shut up and do as you’re told.”

****

It took a full week for Loki to be back on his feet. It took almost two days for his eyes to stop hurting every time he opened them, but once he was able he immediately asked for Daenceia’s notes and books on runes so that he might start work on casting a portal that wouldn’t kill him to open it.

Despite what must have been an enormous workload, Camtan still found time to visit every day with an update from Frigga, so as to stop Loki attempting to rise before he was ready.

Daenceia recovered more slowly, which was something Loki felt guilty for. He didn’t even remember her pulling him out of the spell, but he would have died if she hadn’t. She assured him, as soon as she was able, that she didn’t blame him in the slightest.

“I still feel guilty,” Loki confessed. “I felt your presence at my side but never even thought that pushing myself meant pushing you too.”

“Our King had yet to cross the barrier,” Daenceia reminded him. “I did it for the crown as much as you.”

“So it’s Dorgen’s fault then,” Loki said.

“Yes,” Daenceia replied with a smile.

Loki shifted onto his side so that he could face her properly.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for your wedding,” he said quietly. “I keep thinking that if I had been, maybe I could have done something, although then I think that that’s arrogant of me to assume.”

“I don’t think it’s arrogant, you’re a powerful mage, Loki, you could have blasted Fomalen into dust before he even knew what was happening,” Daenceia said. “But it’s not your fault you weren’t there, you were travelling and weren’t to know we’d set a date.”

She paused for a moment with her eyes staring into the past.

“He wanted to invite you,” she said. “Well, we both did, but I heard him express regret at not being able to reach you.”

Loki blinked hard. “I’m sorry,” he said again.

Daenceia shook her head. “Don’t be, don’t dwell on it, it doesn’t help, believe me. It happened so fast that for days I was in a kind of shock, I just carried on as usual, fighting Fomalen’s guards as they tried to track us, discussing strategy with Cat, it was over so quickly that a part of me just didn’t believe he was gone. I felt as though he was somewhere else, another room or something, and that he’d be back in a minute, then another minute, then another, and then finally it hit me that he was never coming back. I would never see him, talk to him, kiss him, make him laugh, everything we had was gone and I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. I don’t think I told him that I loved him that morning, there was so much to do for the wedding, and now I can’t tell him.”

Daenceia’s eyes filled with tears, Loki struggled to hold back his own.

“It’s been forty three years and I still find myself thinking that he’s just outside the tent flap, just off on a raid, just *somewhere else*, and then it hits me that he’s gone and it’s like being stabbed with a knife all over again; it’s so sudden and swift,” she said.

Loki reached across and took her hand.

“I found out five days ago that one of my closest friends was killed forty three years ago,” he said. “How you just described it is how I feel, I keep thinking he’ll be here somewhere, then I remember,” he said. “I want to destroy Fomalen utterly for what he’s done, to Musleen and to you.”

A tear fell from Daenceia’s eye and trickled down her cheek. “I want King Dorgen back on the throne where he belongs,” she said fiercely. “And I want Fomalen to have a trial, with a proper defence under the law, and after he’s had *that* he can hang, because then it will be done properly, like Musleen would have wanted.”

She dissolved into tears then, bowing her head as she began to sob. Loki rolled out of bed and moved across to her side to draw her into a hug.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“It’s not like I wasn’t thinking about it anyway,” Daenceia sobbed through her tears as she clung to Loki’s shirt. “Every time it’s quiet I think about it, every minute I’m alone. Do you know what it feels like to lose someone you love *that* much?”

Loki immediately thought of Thor. In his two hundred and fifty year marriage he’d thought of Thor every day, more than once a day. In the one hundred and thirteen years he’d been travelling, he’d thought of Thor every minute that he had to himself.

He knew far too well what Daenceia was feeling.

“Can I tell you something?” Daenceia asked suddenly, looking up at Loki with a hint of fear in her eyes. “I never told anyone before, I couldn’t, I couldn’t tell his brothers, who have treated me like family even before we were to wed, and I couldn’t tell my friends, I didn’t think they’d understand, but I think you will, I *know* you will.”

“What is it?” Loki asked gently, pulling a chair over so that they could sit with their heads close together and talk quietly.

Daenceia bit her lip before taking a deep breath.

“The Master of Ceremonies had just wrapped the ribbon around our hands when Fomalen struck. I think he waited for that moment on purpose; if we were tied together, then Musleen was as incapacitated as he could possibly be, leaving King Dorgen open to attack from close range.”

“So how did Musleen reach Dorgen?” Loki asked.

Daenceia blinked hard as her tears began to flow again.

“It was the missing fingers on his hand,” she said. “The ribbon slipped off, if he’d had all four fingers intact he would have been held back by my weight and King Dorgen would have died. I don’t think Fomalen had taken that into account, I think he planned to kill King Dorgen and then capture and kill the rest of us while we were still in shock, instead he was the one who looked shocked, and then Musleen’s men attacked and the wedding became a two-sided bloodbath. Fomalen lost a lot of men and we all got away.”

Loki pressed his lips together hard. Such a simple thing all those years ago with such devastating consequences now, it was hard to hear.

“I’d forgotten about his fingers, he learnt so quickly to excel without them,” he said quietly.

“Sometimes I wish he had been held back,” Daenceia said. “I feel so guilty for thinking that, because then King Dorgen would have died, and he’s been so kind to me. But I miss Musleen so much that I can’t help my dark thoughts. That’s what I wanted to tell you, I’m a terrible person for having them, but in my head all I want is Musleen, even if it means a King has to die. What kind of disloyal subject does that make me?” 

“You’re not disloyal,” Loki said, “You’re like everyone else who’s ever been in love, I suspect.”

“I still feel like a terrible person,” Daenceia said. “Despite my thoughts, or maybe because of them, if King Dorgen needed me to, I’d die for him now.”

“Let’s concentrate on taking out Fomalen,” Loki said. “Frankly I think Dog would prefer that over any more deaths.”

“I know he would,” Daenceia said. “Just like I know Musleen wouldn’t want me to do anything foolish. But if I had to, if there was no other choice, I am ready to die for my king.”

****

Loki’s first day out of bed was spent in the central command tent. Camtan and Dorgen were having a meeting with their main commanders. Loki sat on the floor with Haewkyr by his side as he studied the faces in front of him. Burtchen was there, he’d acquired a few new scars since the last time Loki had seen him. Mulmyr was settled opposite Loki, she gave him a tight smile as he caught her eye.

“Thank you for the rescue,” she said.

“Yeah, ta,” Burtchen added.

Daenceia arrived through the tent flap, leaning on Thainia and Shiarpia. They helped her sit down with her back against a cushion. Loki winced as he saw how slowly she was still moving.

Thainia gave Daenceia a few last minute instructions about coming straight back to the healer’s tent once the meeting was over before she left them to it. This meeting was to be utterly private.

Dorgen looked around the room at everyone. “Well,” he said, “here we are. Loki, thank you for my continued existence, as well as that of my wife and Sir Burtchen, I am in your debt. Now, while you and Daenceia were healing, Mulmyr, Camtan and I have been discussing the raid that destroyed the southern base. One way or another, Fomalen knew where we were, and he had intimate knowledge of the layout, we have to assume that there is a spy, one that may still be among us.”

“The problem is,” Camtan said, “that prior to the southern base falling, Fomalen was showing signs of anticipating our moves here in the east as well. That implies that we have more than one spy in our midst. We could keep an eye on the forty-nine other survivors from the southern base, but that still leaves our entire camp as a possible second spy.”

“One thing is certain though,” Dorgen added. “We can’t stay here, it’s been a good base for forty three years, but if Fomalen has access to inside knowledge, then we aren’t safe here, he could be here at any moment. We need a new base, specifically, one that we can transport our people to without them being able to track where they are going.”

He looked over at Loki.

“You want me to open a portal to the new base rather than travel overland,” Loki guessed.

“Indeed. If you could portal people in and out, the main base should remain secure from the spy,” Dorgen confirmed. “Have you made any progress in opening a portal safely?”

Loki nodded. “I’ve done a lot of reading, and I think I can open one for about ten minutes,” he said. “But I need more time to recover first.”

“It’ll take a week just to pack up the camp,” Camtan said. “We’ve been here a long time.”

“Where were you thinking of going?” Loki asked.

Dorgen reached to the table behind him and grabbed a scroll.

“There is a place that Haewkyr’s birds have located that may well do nicely,” he said. “It’s over a month’s journey east of here by normal means.” He pointed at a point on the unrolled map. “It sounds like the birds were describing some old ruins, predating the current era of Vanir rule.”

“They know what stone is, and they said whatever it was, it was made of regular stones. Birds are quite clever, I doubt they’re wrong,” Haewkyr said.

“I’ll need to take some measurements of the sky,” Loki said. “To work out the end location of the portal in relation to where we are. Can we get above the canopy here?”

“If you like climbing,” Haewkyr said. “I’ll give you a hand later.”

“So you believe that you can do it?” Dorgen asked Loki seriously.

Loki nodded. “I’m pretty sure I can open one, give me a few more days to work out the specifics though.”

“Good. We can set up a new base from which to enact our counter attack,” Dorgen said. “After everyone is safely moved, I will need you to take me to the outer reaches of the realm, where the bulk of the army is located. They need to know that I am alive.”

“If the army marches on the capital, millions of commoners will get caught in the crossfire, it’ll be a massacre,” Haewkyr protested immediately.

“Have you thought of another option yet?” Camtan snapped, taking Loki aback. “No one wants to kill innocents but Fomalen is already entrenched in the palace. He executes people he *suspects* are helping us, he needs no proof. He makes a mockery of the courts, a mockery of justice!”

“A mockery of Musleen,” Daenceia said quietly. “And everything he stood for. I don’t want the commoners getting hurt, but I can’t think of any other way to take back the realm.”

“If we could access the communications centre then we could tell everyone what had happened,” Haewkyr said. “We could tell the army, the commoners, *Asgard*, all at once.”

“Asgard will not help us in our fight, this is an internal matter, we are not being attacked from the outside,” Dorgen said. “Our sovereign rights are enshrined in ancient treaties and Asgard will not break it.”

“Not even if you ask them to?” Shiarpia asked curiously.

Dorgen’s mouth twitched. “I’m afraid not. I am the king by right of birth, but Fomalen holds the power and has command over the food, power and, right now, the army. So who is the real king? For Asgard to take a side they are essentially choosing who rules Vanaheim. They can no more do that than we can decide for them who sits on their golden throne.”

“They don’t have to invade to help us though,” Loki said. “If we can get word to them, we can ask them to take the common people out of the capital and into the country, where they will be safe from the fighting. The Bifrost can take thousands at a time.”

“The Bifrost is blocked by the shield,” Camtan said.

“Maybe we can take it down,” Loki said. “Who has studied it so far?”

“All of us, but there are limitations,” Daenceia said. She spoke slowly, and her voice was trembling with weakness. “We haven’t been able to truly study the crystals up close. So our knowledge is incomplete.”

“Maybe, if we could study them closely then we could figure out a way to lower the shield,” Loki said.

“This plan grows more complicated by the minute,” Camtan said. “Drop the shield, take over the communications network, strike at Fomalen without him escaping after he *sees* our communication to the army and Asgard. Let’s be realistic here.”

“I don’t think they are being unrealistic,” Mulmyr said quietly. “I think that we’ve been fighting a losing battle for so long that we’re looking at things the wrong way. What is the point of a quick end if it hurts millions of people? Let’s truly look at our options now that we have a mage powerful enough to punch through the shield. We could transport to a crystal and attack the area while Loki and Daenceia study it. Then the very next night we can do the same thing, only on the other side of the realm. Fomalen cannot predict where we’ll be, especially if we keep this plan to ourselves, to begin with.”

Camtan scowled, but did not protest. Dorgen was nodding slowly at his wife’s words. “I would like to save as many people as possible,” he said. “Fomalen’s reign of terror has gone on for a long time, perhaps a few months to allow Loki and Daenceia a chance to break the shield wouldn’t make that much of a difference when compared to the lives they could save.”

“What are we going to do about Noilasti?” Shiarpia asked suddenly. “If the southern base was compromised, and our movements are being reported on, who’s to say that Fomalen doesn’t have a spy out west?”

“Lyrren will not be coming to the new base,” Dorgen said. “We need him to stay in the west and strike at Fomalen from there. Unlike our bases, the western base has had no new recruits in the last twenty years. I don’t believe that they have been compromised, and Lyrren assures me that all his men are loyal, apparently ‘Stoneface’ saw to it.”

“Stoneface?” Loki asked.

“General Hogun, he was in the capital when the attack happened. I assigned him to my son as his personal bodyguard,” Dorgen said. “Only men he has personally approved of have been granted the location of the western base.”

“Where is it?” Loki asked.

“Somewhere on or near Lord Kinndyr’s lands is all I know,” Dorgen said. “Lord Eveilyr has also been running a black market operation to get weapons and food to them.”

“Lord Eveilyr and Lord Kinndyr are working together?” Loki said. “Fomalen must be beyond evil to have caused such a thing.”

“He is,” Camtan said. “He is scum.”

“Is Occtir with him?” Loki asked, trying to ignore Camtan’s bitter tone.

“Occtir is in Asgard,” Camtan said. “Although Fomalen doesn’t know that. Musleen convinced him to go as a regular soldier about four years before Fomalen struck, apparently so that he could see what it was like to work alongside the Aesir in combat. It was the final back up plan should all else fail. Occtir believes that his realm is quarantined, and I’ve no doubt after so long he’ll have revealed himself to Prince Thor and be anxiously awaiting any kind of news. If Fomalen succeeds in killing us all and dropping the quarantine, he’ll have quite the shock to see Occtir alive.”

“The problem is that Occtir doesn’t know that the quarantine isn’t real,” Dorgen said. “He’ll believe that Fomalen only took over because of our deaths. He’ll trust Fomalen, and we cannot have that, it’ll be his undoing.”

Loki nodded slowly, he could only imagine what Fomalen would do. Occtir wouldn’t last a week.

“Now, our spies in the palace tell us that Fomalen does not suspect either Lord Kinndyr or Lord Eveilyr at the moment,” Dorgen said. “He *does* suspect Lord Fallconyr, although he cannot prove anything. Lord Fallconyr has not left his lands in years and makes a show of spending all his time with the tea, but still Fomalen suspects,” Dorgen said. “Our spy reported that Fomalen was planning to send a spy down to Lord Fallconyr’s lands, in which case we need to be careful. Lord Fallconyr may not be sending us supplies but his children are, as are the men and women who work his lands. We may need to hoard supplies in case they have to shut down their delivery system.”

“We’ve got enough for two months right now,” Camtan said. “But we can go on rationing to stretch that out.”

“I’ll get back to my studying,” Loki said. “The sooner I work out the best way to punch through the portal the better off we’ll all be.”

Dorgen nodded. “Thank you again for helping us Loki,” he said seriously. “We need you.”

The meeting broke up. Haewkyr helped Daenceia get back to the healer’s tent. Loki grabbed a few of the more helpful books and met her there; as long as she rested her body she was able to read and help. Shiarpia went with Camtan to organise and count their supplies, leaving Dorgen, Mulmyr and Burtchen in the tent.

“I’m telling you that we don’t have a spy,” Burtchen said once they were alone.

“How else do you explain how Fomalen gets such accurate information?” Dorgen asked him.

Burtchen shook his head. “He’s outthinking us, the Dimcken family tree always had a large helping of cunning, and Smairken said that Fomalen spends all his spare time in his chambers with his ‘magic’. Maybe he’s using seidr to read our thoughts?”

“Over such a long distance?” Dorgen questioned. “He’d have to be the most powerful mage ever born.”

“It would explain how he can get through the shield,” Burtchen said. “He could just punch his way through, no runes required.”

Dorgen shuddered. “I hope that’s not it,” he said. “We’re doomed if it is, how could we even hope to stand up to someone that powerful?”

“Loki,” Mulmyr said quietly. “I hate that we have to do it, but right now all our hopes are pinned on Loki.”

****

Fomalen stood on the freezing mountaintop and glared at the area in front of him.

This was where the rebels had vanished, escaped to freedom through a _portal_. 

No one was supposed to be able to travel by portal; the shield had been his masterpiece, his triumph of seidr and skill. There was only one way through the portal and Fomalen was the only one who knew it.

Apparently not. He wondered if it was that bitch Daenceia, she always seemed far too clever for her own good. 

Once again he regretted the fact that she had lived. His plan had been rushed, and so it had failed. Fomalen had learnt a lot in his years of exile, but still there was more to learn. He had rushed, and Dorgen had lived, Camtan had lived, fucking Lyrren had lived. Everyone he had wanted to die had fucking lived!

And so he had taken his time, learnt from his mistakes, started making gains, and finally he’d obtained the information he needed to find and kill Dorgen, and what had happened? 

A new escape tunnel, and a portal waiting to take them to safety. Once again Fomalen had been thwarted.

There was no sign of runes where the portal had opened. Did this mean that it had been opened elsewhere? It had to have been. Someone had known they were fleeing and opened a portal for them to escape.

That meant that somewhere there were runes written on the ground, and Fomalen could find runes. He’d track them back to where they’d fled, and when he found them, he’d kill them all.

With a wave of his hand, Fomalen opened a portal back to the palace and stepped through, shaking the snow from his coat as he arrived.

Time to get to work.


	55. Fifty Four Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hidden in Time

Loki spent several hours carefully drawing out the runes he felt he’d need to open such a large portal to the new location. He had the map Dorgen had given him, and, with Daenceia’s help, had plotted out most of what they needed to know.

“I just need our location under the stars, then I can work out the location of the new base, and the angle of the world between them,” Loki said.

“Haewkyr’s the only person who knows when it’s night and when it’s day,” Daenceia said. “The birds change shifts.”

“I’ll go and see what time it is,” Loki said, turning to go. “Are you feeling any better?”

“I’m still horribly weak,” Daenceia said. “But I feel better because I know we’re doing something, it gives me strength. I can barely wait to be back out on the raids again.”

“I haven’t been on a single one yet,” Loki said.

“And you won’t, not as long as you are the only one who can open a portal, you’re far too valuable,” Daenceia pointed out.

Loki pulled a face but didn’t argue, he had never been on a proper military campaign, but he’d done plenty of training when he was growing up. Despite feeling frustrated that he hadn’t yet done something active, he understood why he was being kept in the camp.

He left the tent and went to find Haewkyr. Haewkyr was sitting up one of the trees on a low branch. He was nodding seriously as a bird on his arm chirped at him. Loki waited for the bird to finish, trying to remind himself to be patient, as the bird may have important information for the rebels.

Finally the bird took off and Haewkyr glanced down to acknowledge Loki’s presence.

“That was a Tawlker, from the far south,” he said. “Delivering a message from Sofftia to Cat.”

“Is she well?” Loki asked.

“She says so, as are the children. I think she’s probably damn frustrated at being so far away but she’ll never say that to Cat, she wouldn’t want to burden him.”

“I’ve come to ask whether it is night time right now,” Loki asked as Haewkyr climbed down. “I need to work out our position accurately in order to draw out the right location runes.”

“Everything else is ready to go?” Haewkyr asked.

“For a test portal, yes. It’ll be small enough for a few people so that we can go through and scout around, if the place isn’t suitable then we’ll have to find somewhere else,” Loki said as they walked to the central command tent.

“Fair point. It’s dusk, according to the Tawlker, he was worried about where to nest for the night, but I put up a bunch of bird boxes higher up, I told him to take one of those,” Haewkyr said.

They reached the central command tent and Haewkyr pulled back the flap.

“Message from the Lady,” he called out as they stepped inside.

It was clear that Dorgen and Camtan had been in the middle of a fight; they were both red-faced and breathless. Loki and Haewkyr had not heard anything because of the runes stitched into the fabric of the tent.

“Uh, we can come back,” Haewkyr offered.

“No, come in, I was just leaving,” Dorgen said.

Camtan’s face was twisted with anger, but he smoothed it out with an effort and forced a tight smile onto his face. “What news does she have?” he asked Haewkyr as Dorgen left the tent.

“That she’s well, that the snow has melted and the children enjoy playing in the slush,” Haewkyr said. “She also said that Fosxyr has kept them from destroying everything inside as they were cooped up all winter, and that he and your mother are true blessings. She says she loves you and believes in you.”

Camtan’s face softened as Haewkyr relayed the message; for a second he looked like his old self again.

“I wish there was someone with her who could talk to the birds, I’d give anything to be able to send a reply,” he said.

“Has all your communication been one sided?” Loki asked.

Camtan nodded, pressing his lips together tightly. “Yes,” he said, and even on that short word Loki thought he could hear Camtan’s voice crack.

"A bird with a note is a liability, a bird without one is just a bird," Haewkyr said. “We’re heading into the canopy,” he added to Camtan. “Loki needs to check the stars for the right location runes to use. It’ll take us about four hours of tree climbing, do you want to join us?”

For a second Loki thought Camtan would refuse, but then he nodded. “I think I need to do something physical,” he said.

****

Sir Smairken Kinndyrson was waiting in the outer room of the King’s chambers for King Fomalen to appear. He had announced a party that night for his loyal subjects, and the room was filled with people chatting and drinking.

Smairken chatted, but he did not drink, at least, not much. He made his first glass last two hours, and his second was untouched in his hand. He was surrounded by nobles, some nervous, some smug, all powerful in their own way, but all terrified of Fomalen.

The King had not yet appeared, this was not unusual, as he often threw parties that he himself would only make a brief appearance at. Smairken instead used his time to listen to the gossip of the men and women surrounding him.

Right now, Lord Fialthyr was casually flirting with Lady Villeia. She had a lot of money, and had supported Fomalen when he’d been forced to flee Vanaheim so many years ago. She’d also been through seven husbands already, so why Lord Fialthyr thought he could play with someone so deadly was beyond Smairken’s reasoning.

He listened politely as they talked, offering a snide comment here and there, just to keep his reputation going. The truth was Smiarken couldn’t stand most of them. They had been his late wife’s sort of people, and, truth be told, though he admired their ambition and ruthlessness, but there was no denying how dreadfully dull they all were. Most of them had gotten where they were by backing Fomalen, the only man in the whole palace, in Smairken’s opinion, who actually had the brains to be dangerous.

Ladughen had expressed surprise when Smairken had volunteered to spy for the rebels. He’d tried to cover it… badly, but Smairken hadn’t cared either way. He had his reasons, three of them, actually.

The first reason was: While he had no great love for the royal family and under normal circumstances would happily watch them get torn apart by wild animals, perhaps even waving at them cheerfully while this happened, Smairken’s father had thrown in his lot with them and was right now hiding Prince Lyrren somewhere among his vast lands. Smairken did not love easily, but he did love his family, and if they were determined to back the royal horse, as it were, then Smairken would stand with, not against them.

The other reason, although he was loathed to admit it, was to win back his father’s respect. He had always been the quiet one, the dark and brooding one, the troubled one. He’d made mistakes, and because he was *him* his mistakes had quite often been life-threatening for other people. By taking on such a dangerous mission, Smairken was hoping to see more than disappointment in his father’s eyes.

Then there was the third reason, although he would never admit this to anyone, ever, especially not his father.

It was fun.

So hang him, he *enjoyed* operating under Fomalen’s nose. He liked keeping secrets and telling bald-faced lies without so much as a twitch to give him away. He should have taken Prince Musleen up on his offer of a job centuries ago, but at the time he’d been rather bitter about the whole wife/mother thing and had dismissed the Prince with a laugh.

Well, he was doing it now, and doing it well, as far as he could tell.

The door opened at the far end of the room and Fomalen walked in. As one, the nobles turned to him and bowed deeply, Smairken among the deepest.

“My friends,” Fomalen said. “Thank you for coming, please, enjoy yourselves.”

Most of them went back to their wine and chatter, Smairken included. Being a successful spy meant that you did not always hang around the man you were spying on.

You waited for him to come to you.

It only took half an hour. Whatever had been keeping Fomalen busy must have been weighing heavily on his mind.

“Sir Smairken, how are you this evening?” Fomalen asked him, waddling up.

“Very well, your Grace. I’m enjoying the break from my studies,” Smairken said. “Sometimes I can get a little too lost in my books.”

“Well, the Tower has much to offer,” Fomalen said. “I was wondering if you might do me a favour? I need to know whether the Tower has any books on the Bifrost and its inner workings.”

Smairken shrugged. “I’m sure there’s something, I’ll have a look tomorrow when I go down there. Were you thinking of building one of our own? Frankly I always thought it would be a good idea, why leave all that power in the hands of Asgard?”

Fomalen smiled cheerfully. “Exactly,” he said. “I want to see how easy it would be to build one, that way when the quarantine is lifted we can travel where we like.”

He was lying. Smairken knew it. But he smiled and nodded and faked his responses easily. He would find some books on the Bifrost tomorrow, but they wouldn’t be helpful unless there was no other way to avoid it.

Fomalen left after an hour, disappearing back into his chambers. Smairken stayed and had a good time. He longed to know what went on behind the doors to Fomalen’s chambers, but breaking into there was a one-time only event. He’d have to flee straight afterwards. It wasn’t worth it, at least not right now.

“Sir Smairken,” said a voice from behind him.

Smairken turned and smiled broadly at Ellumyr, the wife of Prince Woalfen. Ellumyr had been a commoner with two things, great ambition and a striking resemblance to Prince Musleen.

He also had a cruel streak a mile wide, and used his sexual appeal like a weapon. It came of no surprise to Smairken to discover that he’d been working with Fomalen for years, even before he’d ‘accidently’ met Woalfen in an inn all those years ago. Now he was in his element, as close to a queen as Fomalen would allow.

If he hadn’t been on the wrong side, Smairken would’ve bedded him in a second.

“Lord Ellumyr,” Smairken greeted politely. “How are you this evening? And how is your husband? I’ve not seen much of him lately.”

“Woalfi-poo is busy with his work,” Ellumyr said, pouting prettily. “He never has time for play these days.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, I’ve heard my father speak of the trials of land management, although I never realised how stressful or time consuming it really was,” Smairken said.

Ellumyr smiled a frankly obscene smile. “Yes, well, he’s very busy with *management*, although it’s not exactly land-based these days,” he said.

Smairken ignored the easy bait. “I hope he has time to rest and relax soon,” he said and held his glass up. “To a well-earned rest,” he said.

Ellumyr mimicked him, although he looked put out. Smairken still ignored it. Ellumyr was not as simple as he pretended to be, he often dropped large hints in the hopes of catching the less wary out, or even gaining blackmail material.

They were interrupted by the arrival of Horrseen, still head of the Tower, and allowed to keep his job and his head, once he’d signed a full abdication charter in favour of putting his younger brother on the throne.

“Sir Smairken, I was told you were coming to the Tower tomorrow to continue your studies,” he said. “I wanted to tell you that the circular library has been closed following an accidental explosion this morning. I hope you did not have plans in there.”

“No, thankfully not,” Smairken said. “I’ve been asked to find books on the Bifrost for our King, those should be in the second floor library, yes?”

“Yes, yes, all travel books are in the second floor library,” Horrseen said. “Come anytime.”

Smairken smiled. By the time he reached the library tomorrow, the more helpful of the books would be removed and the dust carefully shifted to hide it. Horrseen had no love for Fomalen, and barely any for Woalfen, when the commoners had fled the Tower, it had been Horrseen who had made sure they took the most valuable books with them.

Later that night, when everyone was sleeping through their alcoholic indulgence, Smairken quietly told a sparrow all that he knew. By morning it would be in the Hummingbird’s ear.

****

Haewkyr gathered the climbing equipment as Loki and Camtan lurked by the base of the chosen tree. Loki could see the tension in Camtan’s shoulders, but he wasn’t sure how to approach him and the fight he had been having with Dorgen.

Camtan caught his eye and looked down with a sigh, reading his question in his expression. “Dog and I were discussing our plans going forward, he wants to wait and see what you are capable of before deciding anything concrete. I disagreed. I think we should still aim to contact the army. They’re the *army*, what good are they if they don’t bloody fight for their king?” he said.

“What good is a King who doesn’t fight for his people?” Loki said.

Camtan scowled and dug his foot into the dirt. “That’s almost word for word what he said to me,” he said. 

“I’ve only just arrived,” Loki said. “I can’t begin to imagine how you’ve managed to keep fighting this long.”

“Barely,” Camtan said. “I’ve barely managed. I haven’t spoken to my wife in forty three years. All I have is messages sent by bloody Tawlkers, and those have to be short, Tawlkers aren’t that great at remembering things, apparently.”

“We’ll win this,” Loki said. “I’ll take Fomalen on myself if I have to.”

Camtan smiled wryly. “I don’t doubt it,” he said. 

There was a pause.

“I asked Dog if I could go and see them,” Camtan said quietly. “I miss them so much it hurts, I don’t like who I turn into when they aren’t around, I see… I see my father in me; I start to think of casualties as necessary, not tragedies. I just want it _over._ ”

Forty three years, and they’d called Loki in because they were desperate. _Ten years ago_ they’d been desperate, now they were something beyond that.

“You will never be your father,” Loki said quietly. “The very fact that it worries you tells me that you’ll never give in to petty cruelties like he did.”

“Do you think so?” Camtan asked. He looked genuinely concerned.

“I’m certain,” Loki said seriously. “I’m guessing that most of your anger came from Dog not giving his permission?” he added.

Camtan nodded. “It’s too risky; I’ve almost been killed twice already just going on raids. One time Fomalen’s men actually caught me and called him in. The bastard was right in front of me but I was tied down and couldn’t move an inch. He confirmed that it was me and ordered them to kill me, but Taps and Needle jumped up out of the shadows and killed the guards. Fomalen fled back through his portal before they could get a shot in. We came so _close_.”

“Let’s focus on moving the base for now,” Loki said. “Once we’re in a safer place we can draw up proper plans, who knows, maybe we can find a way to take down the shield, get the commoners to safety and kill Fomalen all at once.”

“Was that sarcasm?” Camtan asked.

Loki shrugged. “I admit it’s unlikely, but if you don’t aim high you’ve already lost. I want to have a good look at those crystals; I find it hard to believe that there isn’t a redundancy built into the system so that Fomalen can take it down quickly if he needs to.”

“Do you think that if we can find it, we can take down the shield?” Camtan asked.

“It’d be a good start,” Loki said. “It means Asgard will know what’s going on, which means that *Occtir* will know what’s going on, he’ll be warned at least, and the part of the Vanir army stationed on Asgard will follow him home. We still have to work out how to warn the commoners, but it’s an option at least.”

“I’d forgotten what options felt like to be honest,” Camtan said as Haewkyr arrived.

“Right, here’s the harnesses, let's head on up,” he said.

Haewkyr went first up the tree. He’d climbed it before to talk to the birds and had left climbing rings embedded in the massive trunk. Loki followed, pulling himself up with an effort. He was still recovering from opening the portal a week ago, but he persisted, getting a new base was a priority. Camtan followed, working out his residual anger as he hauled himself up the length of the trunk.

They rested after two hours, sitting on a platform that Haewkyr had installed. Haewkyr pulled out pork rolls and handed them out.

“Taps said that you liked these,” he said to Loki.

“I do,” Loki said. “They’re just the thing for climbing… and studying, and walking around, breathing, lying in bed, anytime really.”

Haewkyr chuckled as Loki tucked in.

They did the second leg of the climb without pausing. Loki was shaking slightly when he reached the top, but he was proud that he’d made it so soon after almost dying.

“Are you all right?” Camtan asked.

Maybe he wasn’t *completely* healed yet.

“I’m fine, I just need a minute,” Loki said.

“I’ll set up the telescope and the charts,” Camtan said.

Loki breathed deeply as he surveyed the top of the canopy. This deep into the forest it seemed endless. Above them the sky was clear and filled with stars. It was a perfect night.

“All ready,” Camtan said, gesturing to the telescope. He’d managed to secure it to the tallest stable branch.

Loki carefully climbed over to it and began to chart their exact position. 

“Can someone write down the numbers I call out?” he asked. “It’ll go faster if you do.”

“No worries, I’m ready and willing,” Haewkyr said.

Loki carefully located each of the main identifying stars and their position in the sky. He called out the numbers to Haewkyr who repeated them back to confirm. After half an hour he knew exactly where they were, and, assuming the map with the ruins on it was accurate, he’d be able to open a portal exactly in the centre.

“Okay, all done,” Loki said, looking up from the telescope. His face changed as he saw a light in the distance. 

“What was that?” Haewkyr asked.

“I saw it too,” Camtan said.

“It looked like a portal,” Loki said. “If you travel within worlds you can leave a light trail above where the portal opens.”

“How close is that to the base?” Camtan asked.

Haewkyr squinted. “Hard to tell in the dark, but I’d say at least an hour away, maybe more. We’re on top of the base and that was quite a way into the distance.”

“But it’s still Fomalen, it has to be,” Camtan said. “He’s searching the area, we have to get out *now*.”

“Haewkyr, can you get word down below to tell them to start packing?” Loki asked.

Haewkyr reached out a hand, a moment later a bird rose from somewhere nearby and flew over to him. It chirped in a disgruntled kind of way.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” Haewkyr said. “Can you take a note to the one who looks like this?”

He appeared to concentrate on nothing; Loki could only assume that he was giving the bird an image of Dorgen. A second later Haewkyr ripped off a bit of paper and scribbled a quick note. The bird took it in its beak and swooped downward.

“We’d better get going,” Haewkyr said. “If he’s an hour away we won’t make it to the ground in time.”

“He may not know exactly where the base is, otherwise he’s portal to the middle of like he did with the southern base,” Camtan said. “That may buy us some time.”

“Do you have an evacuation point?” Loki asked.

Camtan nodded. “It’s deeper into the forest, we split up and run in eight different directions before meeting up further east.”

“We can climb across the canopy,” Haewkyr said. “It’ll be slow going, but going back down is ruled out until we know we’re not going to come down on an arsehole and his friends.”

“Follow me, carefully,” Camtan said, heading off further east.

Loki followed, trying to calm his fears about everyone below. He wouldn’t know until they got to the evacuation point who had made it out and who had been killed.

****

Fomalen stood in a small clearing, looking around himself with a frown on his face. There were runes here, runes for arrival through a portal. They were exactly what he had been looking for.

Except for the fact that no one was here. The clearing was far too small for a base to be set up, and there was no evidence that anyone had ever camped here.

This made no sense. Someone had clearly opened a portal to allow Dorgen to escape. It had to have been here because this was the only rune circle Fomalen had been able to locate across the realm, he’d destroyed all of the official ones, this had been carefully drawn but was still in the middle of a forest, thus unofficial in every way.

Somehow Dorgen had called on help to escape, the mage had *travelled* here to open the portal, but travelled from where? Nowhere close, his men had already fanned out and found nothing in the immediate area. Why would Dorgen risk the mage being so far away from the portal? Was it possible that this portal *wasn’t* the one used? But then where was it? Fomalen was the only one who could open a portal without runes, and that was only because he wrote the spell and knew the right way to counteract it so that it didn’t crush his head.

No one was powerful enough to open a portal without runes, so that was out. They must have written them, opened the portal, and then destroyed them again. This portal was left over from something else.

With a scowl Fomalen recalled his men. The rebels weren’t here, which meant he’d have to go back to his original plan.

Fomalen ordered the men to destroy the runes on the ground. It took some time, runes, once used, were not erased lightly. But when they were done he opened a portal of his own and took them all back to the palace.

Fomalen stalked back up to his chambers. He slammed the door open and headed down the corridor to the bathroom, stopping halfway to open the door that once housed the King’s massive collection of jewels.

Woalfen looked up from where he sat by the side of a bed. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Move, I need more information,” Fomalen snapped.

Woalfen rose and stood between Fomalen and his goal. “The last effort almost killed you,” he said. “You need to rest before you try again.”

“Almost killed *him* you mean, don’t play games with me, brother. I need to find the eastern base of the rebels before they have a chance to move on, now get out of my way!”

Woalfen reluctantly moved to the side. “If he dies…” he started.

“What? You’ll what?” Fomalen snapped.

“You promised me, brother,” Woalfen said.

“Go and fuck your wife,” Fomalen snapped. “He likes it.”

“Speaking from experience?” Woalfen said bitterly.

Fomalen rolled his eyes. “One time, before he and you met, in fact I directed him to you afterwards. I thought you’d be pleased, and you were, until recently.”

Woalfen scowled. “Don’t let him die,” he said.

Fomalen waved Woalfen away. “I need him as much as you seem to,” he said. “I won’t let him die.”

Woalfen left, closing the door behind him. Fomalen turned back to the bed in front of him.

“You know I really hate doing this,” he said. “It gives me such a headache.”

On the bed, with his dark blond curls spread across the pillow and his beard grown out until it was forming ringlets below his chin, Prince Musleen lay as though sleeping. Fomalen stepped forwards and placed his hands on either side of Musleen’s head.

“Let’s see what else you know, cousin,” he muttered and closed his eyes.

Images flashed across Fomalen’s mind. Daenceia featured heavily, so did the southern base, now that he’d broken into those memories. He focussed harder on the east, on Camtan. Camtan was somewhere east, where would Camtan go that was _east?_

It had taken years to break into Musleen’s sleeping mind, Fomalen was not willing to wait so long again. He pushed harder and harder, hard enough to make a man scream in pain.

Musleen stayed silent and slept on.


	56. Fifty Five Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Want-take-have

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, in this chapter Woalfen think over his history with Musleen. For reference, their ages in human years are in the notes at the end, with the Vanir years in brackets.

Woalfen finished his breakfast and left his chambers in the palace. His destination was the same one he’d gone to every day for the last 43 years. Fomalen had removed his jewellery from the traditional room and replaced it with a bed and a sleeping prisoner, and Woalfen couldn’t stay away.

When the knife had been thrown Woalfen had been as shocked as anyone, his brother had kept all his plans close to his chest. It should have struck Dorgen, it was *supposed* to strike Dorgen, but Musleen had leapt into its path.

Woalfen still had nightmares about the blood. It had gone everywhere. He’d been frozen in shock at the sight. In the end it had been Fomalen himself who had saved the fallen prince. As his guards fought with Musleen’s and the royal family fled he had reached down and yanked the knife from Musleen’s chest.

Woalfen had watched in amazement as the wound healed, leaving nothing but an ugly scar to show that it had ever been there.

Still, with the blood loss Musleen had almost died anyway, Fomalen had even ordered the disposal of the body. It wasn’t until his guard reported to the newly vacated king’s chambers and informed them that the prince still breathed that Fomalen ordered him brought up and laid out on the bed.

All the guards involved had died that night, Woalfen had no doubt about what had happened to them, although Fomalen blamed the last of Musleen’s men, stating that they had been trying to retrieve the prince's body.

No, only Woalfen was left alive with Fomalen’s secret. It was he who had cleared the jewellery room and sourced the bed, it was he who had washed the blood from Musleen’s body and laid it gently on the sheets. He’d chosen silk, although Fomalen had laughed and told him that Musleen was beyond sensation, so deep was his magical sleep.

Woalfen reached the king’s chambers and slipped inside. Fomalen was still asleep, snoring loudly in his bed. Woalfen crept past and down the corridor to Musleen’s room.

It was a ritual that Woalfen carried out every week. Today was a special day. Today was bath day.

He opened the door to Musleen’s room and walked inside, looking down lovingly at the sleeping man on the bed before him. Truth be told there was no need to bath him now. In the beginning there had been the blood, then bowel movements and bladder spills, but as the food in Musleen’s body was replaced by seidr as the source of energy keeping him alive, even his sweat no longer appeared on his skin. It was as though he was frozen in time.

Fomalen had assured Woalfen that the spell wouldn’t harm him. The seidr was supposed to be preserving him exactly as he needed to be. When he woke, Fomalen had said, he would be hungry, but not otherwise affected.

Woalfen truly hoped that Fomalen was telling the truth. He pulled back the covers and, not without a little effort, lifted Musleen up and carried him into the bathroom.

He laid Musleen gently down on the massage table while he prepared the bath. The water was warm, and as Woalfen watched it splash down into the porcelain tub, he thought about how he’d managed to come to where he was now. He should have known better than to give up hope that one day Musleen would be his. Fomalen had even been kind enough to make him a set of magic cuffs, so as to bind Musleen’s will when he was eventually woken.

Woalfen had still been a boy growing up in the palace when one day, his father, General Breaveen, came striding in unexpectedly.

“We’re going home” he’d said in an angry tone.

“Why Father?” Fomalen had asked.

“Your uncle, the king, has announced that he’d marrying a commoner,” General Breaveen spat out “A nasty, filthy, commoner, probably a whore too, and do you know why? Because she is pretty, beautiful actually, but still, a commoner. Commoners are not for marrying!”

Woalfen had echoed his father’s outrage, as boys often did before they knew much of the world.

“So we are leaving the palace?” he’d asked.

“In protest. I gave his majesty a piece of my mind and he threatened to chop my head off - ” Woalfen and Fomalen had gasped together – “Oh don’t worry, he won’t do it, he’s been threatening to since we were children. He’ll rant and rave, but he’ll forgive me my insolence in a while. We won’t be going to the wedding though, it is beneath our dignity.”

And so Woalfen was forced to leave the wonders of the palace for the dreariness of his father’s estates. He hated the north. It was rainy and cold and gloomy, and Horrseen got to stay in the capital because he was studying seidr and was an adult. It wasn’t fair.

“When will the king get tired of his new wife so we can go back?” Woalfen had asked his father one day.

Breaveen had shaken his head. “He won’t, there’s a weakness in the royal line, the want-take-have. Hopefully you won’t have inherited it.”

“Want-take-have?” Woalfen had asked.

Breaveen had smiled then, he was not a bad father, although he was a little too fond of exercise and training. He wanted at least one of his sons to follow him into the army. Woalfen was terrified of the day he would have to admit to the General that he didn’t want to.

“I call it that because it always follows the same pattern: you see it, you want it, you take it, you have it, and then, once you have it, you hold onto it until it wears out completely. Our family has a tendency to become obsessed with things, Woalfen, I just hope that you and your brother do not go down that path. DimDim has always made a fool of himself over his obsessions.”

Woalfen had not really understood at the time why his father thought that having what you wanted was a bad thing, but he accepted it as children do and tried to make the best of things in his gloomy home.

Some decades later General Breaveen reported to his sons that they had a new cousin, a half-commoner named Musleen.

“After my father I assume, he was a great man, and now a little half-breed has his name,” Breaveen had sneered.

Woalfen had echoed his father’s sneer and had been determined to hate his new cousin, and the one that followed him. Camtan, what kind of a stupid name was that for a Prince? So what if some ancient warrior had held it, it was still stupid, they were both stupid.

Five hundred and sixty years later, when Woalfen heard the news that the commoner queen had been executed, he had been surprised only by how long it had taken. Along with his father and brother he packed his things and headed back to the palace for an extended visit. An adult now, he became reacquainted with his cousin, Dorgen, and moved easily through the court, happily conversing with the young nobles and making friends and alliances.

His younger cousins were still children, and as such were kept away from the court. They were not in disgrace, exactly, they had the finest tutors and proper chambers, but their care was left to the servants as their father worked through the pain of his betrayal. Woalfen wouldn’t have been surprised to hear that an accident or two had occurred, but the years past and the two young princes apparently remained unharmed.

Toward the end of his father’s life, Woalfen had spent more and more time taking care of the family estates, unfortunately, that meant he had to be there, surrounded by the cold and gloom.

Ugh.

When his father passed away, Woalfen accompanied his body to the capital where it would be laid in the royal burial lands, and it was at General Breaveen’s funeral that Woalfen laid eyes on Musleen for the first time.

His mother must have been stunning.

He was still a youth, and, although a recent growth spurt had put him a head taller than his brother and left him looking somewhat lanky in the limbs, his face was like something out of a dream.

Woalfen had stared into those dark blue eyes and known in his heart what his father had been talking about all those year ago. 

Want-take-have.

He wanted, oh how he wanted. He _yearned_. That boy was enchanting, and all Woalfen wanted to do was lie him down and fuck him into the bed so hard that they broke the frame.

His hair was at his shoulders, as was the fashion for youths, and it fell in dark blond curls that looked so soft and inviting. And Woalfen wouldn’t be a selfish lover, oh no, he’d pleasure that boy until he passed out from ecstasy. 

There was just one problem. Well, 187 problems, otherwise known as how many years it would take for Musleen to be an adult.

Woalfen didn’t want to wait that long, but he accepted with reluctance that he had to, and so he extended his stay at the palace and made a point of getting to know his younger cousins.

He gave them both gifts, so as not to arouse suspicion, but Musleen’s one’s were better thought out. He engaged him in conversation and discovered that he was a serious youth with a keen interest in justice and fairness. He liked logic games and was very good at knives and archery in the training yard, although Camtan could beat him with the sword. Woalfen was tossed onto his bottom a lot in those months by both of them as he tried to keep up.

His plan was simple, get to know Musleen well enough so that, once he came of age, a discrete affair would be favourably received. But Woalfen’s plans hit another snag. Musleen had absolutely no interest in men. He liked women. He liked their shape and the way they moved. His beautiful eyes would track the ladies of the court across the room, and, when they looked his way, he’d swallow nervously and stare at his feet. In all the years Woalfen was there, Musleen never once appeared open to the idea of a male companion.

Musleen’s coming of age was a grand party. The King had become more fatherly toward his sons as they became capable of adult conversation and had eventually developed a real fondness for them. They celebrated all night.

Musleen announced the following week that he was going to join the army for a ten year tour of duty. It was traditional, but that didn’t make the pain in Woalfen’s chest lesson. He wanted that boy, that *man* as much now as he had when he’d first laid eyes on him.

So he hatched a new plan. After Musleen left, Woalfen put together a proposal for marriage and presented it to the king. He was a good match, a Prince, wealthy and with a large estate to his name. Musleen was far enough away from the throne what with Dorgen’s two sons, so heirs would not be an issue, and Woalfen had a lot to offer the court if he were to remain here permanently at Musleen’s side.

The King had rejected him on the grounds that Musleen was too young and not interested in men. He had been quite kind in his refusal, which made what Woalfen did seem even worse.

He’d accused the King of standing in the way of true love. Worse, he’d said it in front of Dorgen as well, and the crown prince was known to be quite protective of his brothers. The King had laughed at him, thankfully, and Woalfen had fled back to his lands in disgrace and shame. 

He kept writing to Musleen, hoping against hope that the King wouldn’t *tell* the man what had happened. But of course he did, as soon as Musleen returned home the King had told him everything. Woalfen got one final letter from Musleen stating that it might be best if their correspondence ended. He had written back thirty times before he got an official order from the King banning him from the capital and requesting that, for the sake of his head, he not contact Musleen any further. Unlike his father, Woalfen had no confidence in the King’s affection saving him. He stopped writing.

He had tried to move on instead. For years he was unsuccessful, and every mention of Prince Musleen had felt like a dagger into his heart. His only solace had been when Fomalen had introduced him to Ellumyr, a man whose resemblance to Musleen was uncanny and whose desire for… interesting sex was apparently insatiable. He was a commoner, but Woalfen no longer cared about such things, he married Ellumyr in a private ceremony and tried to be content for the sake of his head. 

He never did find out why Fomalen was banished, and he wasn’t about to draw attention to himself by asking, but twenty years after Woalfen married Ellumyr he lost his strongest supporter to Asgard, or so he thought. Fomalen pursued the knowledge of seidr while he was away, and focussed hard on portals. Once he mastered them, he began to visit quite often, using Woalfen’s lands as a base for his ‘business ventures’. Woalfen never asked what he was really doing, they were united in their hatred of the King, and as far as he was concerned his brother could do what he liked if it hurt the throne.

Besides, when he was in a good mood, Fomalen would open a one-way viewing portal right into Musleen’s bedroom, he’d leave Woalfen alone to do… whatever he needed to while he watched the Prince sleep. 

At some point after Musleen had taken over the spy network and the courts, Fomalen found his way blocked. Musleen had gained a reputation for being a suspicious man, it appeared that he had put some kind of shield over the palace to block portal-seidr and make it harder for any would-be assassins to succeed. Fomalen had noted this with interest and begun studying the phenomena in earnest. 

Woalfen blinked, the bath had filled while he’d been remembering. It was strange to think of all the twists and turns that had led the two brothers here.

He turned off the tap and undressed, leaving his nightshirt on the floor as he picked up Musleen and carefully lowered him onto the platform just below the water, which was normally used to sit on when you didn’t want to be fully submerged. Woalfen climbed in after him and settled comfortably beside him. He picked up the washcloth and rubbed it over Musleen’s chest and stomach, working his way down to the Prince’s feet before going back up along his buttocks and back.

He was tempted, as he always was, to take advantage of the sleeping Prince’s vulnerability, he’d let his fingers wander over Musleen’s skin often enough, but Woalfen had refrained from sex. He wished he could say it was for a noble reason, but the truth was he wanted Musleen awake when he took him to bed for the first time. He wanted to see those blue eyes widen with understanding that this had *always* been where they would end up, it was *always* what had to happen. Woalfen had wanted, now he would take, and Musleen would be had. It didn’t appeal to Woalfen all that much for Musleen to sleep through his claiming.

Fomalen had assured Woalfen that once the rebels were crushed he would wake Musleen and place the cuffs on him, making him Woalfen’s forever, for now though he insisted that he needed Musleen as he was. He *might* have broken under normal torture methods, but there was no guarantee and it would have left him in a terrible way. No, Fomalen had turned his attention to mind magic instead, studying hard and practicing harder, until ten years ago he’d finally started to break through Musleen’s walls and gain back some of what they’d lost. It wouldn’t be long now until the rebels were gone, Woalfen hoped, and then Musleen would be his forever.

He finished bathing the sleeping Prince and lifted him out of the tub to dry him off. Every day he came to see Musleen, every day he watched over him for hours. 

Of course he did, Woalfen loved him.

****  
It was morning before Loki, Camtan and Haewkyr decided that they were far enough away to risk climbing down. It took even longer to reach the rebels’ evacuation point. When they finally arrived they were met with weapons and suspicious stares.

“Let me see,” said Shiarpia, pushing her way through the guards. She didn’t pause, but threw a potion over them all.

“They’re really them,” she said and grinned as they wiped the potion off their faces. “Thank goodness, we were getting worried.”

“Did everyone get out all right?” Camtan asked.

“Yes, we snatched up our scramble packs and got away. Dog wants to talk to you about what you saw, there was no sign of any enemy activity even at the end of the evacuation,” Shiarpia said as she led them to where the command tent had been hastily set up. It was the only tent that had made the journey, being designed to be collapsed quickly with all the maps still inside.

They entered the tent and saw Dorgen, Daenceia and Mulmyr sitting around the low table. Dorgen rose, stepped forward and pulled Camtan into a hard hug.

“I’m sorry,” he said into Camtan’s ear. “I shouldn’t have yelled; I shouldn’t have been so harsh.”

Camtan hugged him back hard. “No, you were right, I was being selfish. I’m so glad to see that you are all right.”

“We sent a scout back to the camp. He reported that it hasn’t been raided,” Dorgen said, looking between them. “Are you sure that you saw a portal?”

“I’m sure,” Loki said. “They’re quite distinctive.”

“The scout grabbed some more supplies before leaving, we were debating whether it was worth going back with a small group to try and grab some more,” Dorgen said. “My gut instinct says no, but we left behind a lot of equipment that will be hard to replace."

“I’ll go with a team,” Haewkyr said. “I’ll send the birds on ahead and we’ll only approach if it’s clear.”

“If Fomalen wasn’t raiding the camp, then what was he doing so close to it?” Mulmyr asked.

“I have no idea,” Loki said. “What’s out there? About, I don’t know, an hour west of the camp?”

Daenceia suddenly slapped her head with her hand. “Idiot,” she shouted, making them jump. “The runes I drew for Loki’s arrival. *They’re* about an hour west of the camp. Fomalen has to know by now that the southern base escaped through a portal, he was tracking the runes! And I just left them there!”

“Now, be fair, Loki only showed up a day before the southern base evacuated, and then you were both incapacitated for a week,” Camtan said. “We were planning to leave anyway, we’ve just done so ahead of schedule. We’ll send a team to pack up the rest of the camp and bring our things back here. If Fomalen sends some men through to scout the area we’ll be long gone.” 

“There is one problem,” Loki said, frowning. “Those runes were for arrival, there was no way to tell where the journey began, but the ones I’m going to write to take us to the new base will be destination runes, Fomalen can read them and know exactly where we’ve gone.”

“We’ll have to leave someone behind to destroy them,” Haewkyr said. “One of my cousins’ll probably volunteer, they can head back to the castle afterwards and stay there without suspicion.”

“It’s still a lot to ask. If Fomalen finds the runes before they are erased then they’ll be captured for sure,” Dorgen said.

Haewkyr nodded. “I’ll make sure they understand the risks before volunteering, if no one else wants to do it, I’ll do it myself.”

“You can’t, you’re too valuable,” Camtan said. “But I can do it.”

Dorgen sighed. “Let’s pack up the camp first before we start playing the martyr game,” he said. “And we’ll need to be on our guard once Loki starts writing the runes for the relocation.”

“How are you feeling?” Loki asked Daenceia as the others spoke back and forth.

“Tired, still, but I can walk short distances on my own,” she said. “I can’t believe that you climbed into the canopy.”

Loki shrugged. “It needed to be done,” he said.

“Don’t shrug this off, Loks, you are extraordinary,” Daenceia said. “With you on our side we have hope for the first time in a long time. The mood in the camp has changed.”

Loki looked at her seriously. “That bastard is going down, Taps,” he said. “I swear that to you.” 

“So it’s settled,” Dorgen’s voice broke in. “We’ll put a team together and pack up the rest of the camp. When they get back Loki will open a portal to let us all through to the new place. If it’s unsuitable we’ll have to *make* it suitable. Then we’ll destroy the runes with a detonator.”

“What?” Loki asked.

Daenceia nodded. “Of course, I’d forgotten that we still had a few of those. We can set a timed detonator that will explode and destroy the runes.”

“And a small chunk of the forest, but there’s a lot of it about so I wouldn’t worry too much,” Haewkyr interjected. “I’ll go and see to the team now.”

He left the tent, nodding to Loki and Daenceia as he went.

“Please tell me you got the information you needed to open the portal, Loki, I forgot to ask,” Dorgen said.

“I did,” Loki said. “I’m ready now, we can set up the area while the team is gone, everything but the runes.”

“Good, we’ll help you,” Camtan said as Shiapria nodded. "Just tell us what you need."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Dimcken marries Visxena:_  
>  Woalfen: 9 (562)  
> Fomalen: 8 (500)  
>  _Musleen is born:_  
>  Woalfen: 10 (620)  
> Fomalen: 9 (562)  
>  _Camtan is born:_  
>  Woalfen: 10.5 (660)  
> Musleen: 7.5 months (40)  
>  _Visxena is ‘executed’:_  
>  Woalfen: 20 (1250)  
> Musleen: 10 (625)  
>  _Woalfen meets Musleen for the first time:_  
>  Woalfen: 25 (1562)  
> Musleen: 15 (937)  
>  _Musleen finishes his primary studies and leaves for a tour in the army:_  
>  Woalfen: 28 (1750)  
> Musleen: 18 (1125)  
>  _Woalfen marries Ellumyr/Fomalen is banished (approximately 20 years later)_  
>  Woalfen: 30 (1875)  
> Fomalen: 29 (1812)  
> Musleen: 20 (1250)  
>  _Musleen starts to sit in on the courts/takes over the spy network:_  
>  Woalfen: 31 (1937)  
> Musleen: 21 (1312)  
>  _Musleen finishes reforming the courts to be fair to all (unless the king takes a personal interest:_  
>  Woalfen: 32 (2000)  
> Musleen: 22 (1375)  
>  _Loki marries Dimcken:_  
>  Woalfen: 34 (2125)  
> Musleen: 24 (1500)  
> Loki: 18 (1125)  
>  _Current events:_  
>  Woalfen: 39 (2437)  
> Musleen: 29 (1812)
> 
> Also random note, you don’t really see Breaveen at his best in this recollection. In truth he was a better man than his brother, but raised to see commoners as lesser. Overall he did mostly good things with his life and never mistreated his servants, he just didn’t believe in mixing their common blood with his pure one.


	57. Fifty Six Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Best Laid Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random side note:
> 
> "Rindill" is apparently a *very* old Icelandic word for Wren, according to Wikipedia.

Smairken gathered the three books he’d been able to find about the Bifrost. They were history books, nothing about how to build one, only about how its existence had changed the nine realms. Smairken hoped that Fomalen would be suitably disappointed. 

His own research was going well, he was officially studying the history of dark seidr, what spells had come first and who had discovered them, unofficially, he was researching ways to avoid being detected so that he could see what was going on behind Fomalen’s closed door.

The palace had, for hundreds of years, been spelled with all kinds of protection. Teleporting in was impossible, using scrying spells on the inside only brought up an image of Musleen looking rather stern, quite possibly the only evidence of the man ever actually having a sense of humour. In recent years Fomalen had added to the protections with his own spells. Invisibility was no longer possible and glamours failed to work as soon as you stepped inside the gates. Smairken had actually enjoyed that one, he’d watched in utter delight as several beautiful nobles suddenly found their less-than-perfect skin on display, and in one case a minor lord was revealed to be totally bald. Smairken had laughed openly at his embarrassment, which had been what had originally drawn Fomalen’s attention to him.

Now they were acquaintances with a shared interest in dark seidr and a hatred for the royal family. Smairken wasn’t stupid enough to believe that Fomalen trusted him, but he distrusted him slightly less than other people.

Horrseen had done his work well, in the section on travel spells there had been several books on cloaking and spy-spells for Smairken to read, and later on in the history section he’d found a few more. At no point did he set foot in the illusion and transmutation library.

Smairken returned to the palace with the Bifrost books under his arm and new knowledge to pass on to the rebel mages. It was a slow process, but they couldn’t risk coming into the capital, too many of them had been captured and killed trying to escape, and the guards knew all of the faces of those who had made it out alive.

It was a blessing that so few of them had families, as that meant fewer people to torture in retaliation for their rebellion.

Smairekn went to the King’s chambers and settled in the public waiting room. He had a glass of wine and idly read through the first part of one of the books he’d brought while he waited for Fomalen to admit him.

It took several hours, whatever Fomalen was doing in there was time consuming, and it was well known that the council performed most of the day to day activities of running the realm. Eventually though Smairken was admitted.

Fomalen looked exhausted. He had dark shadows under his eyes and he was slumped in his chair, but he was also drinking his favourite wine, the one he drank when things were going well and he wished to celebrate.

“Sir Smairken, have you brought the information I asked for?” he asked as Smairken entered the room.

“These were all I could find, your Majesty,” Smairekn said politely, setting the books down on the table by Fomalen’s side. “They mostly cover the history of Bifrost travel, I’m afraid the plans to build one must be in Asgard.”

“Damn. Well, I’ll have a look over them anyway; once the quarantine is lifted I may have to send you on an excursion,” Fomalen said.

Smairken raised his eyebrows and said: “I’d be honoured, your Majesty, I’ve always wanted to visit Asgard but it never seemed the right time.”

Fomalen sighed, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “Well it shouldn’t be long now,” he said, swirling the wine. “Victory will soon be mine to enjoy.”

Smairken smiled. “That is good news, your Majesty, very good news.”

Fomalen nodded. “Yes, I’m sick of these games, I want to move on with my plans and instead I’ve been held up, thank you for the books, you may go.”

Smairken bowed low and left Fomalen alone. He was worried; despite Fomalen’s obvious weariness, the man had been celebrating, that meant that he’d scored a victory… or was about to.

Smairken relayed all he knew to a waiting sparrow the second he was back in his chambers, but not before he double checked all his own wards. Fomalen was never too free with his information and plans, anytime he let slip a titbit of information, Smairken wondered if he had been discovered and was being set up.

****

Woalfen entered the royal living quarters from the bedroom. He’d come out to check on his brother after first assuring himself that Musleen was not harmed by the latest round of mind-breaking.

“This isn’t good for you, brother,” he said.

Fomalen sighed and waved Woalfen into a seat. “It’s not for too much longer, he’s got some strong walls up, whenever I try to steer him towards Camtan or *Daenceia* then I hit a solid wall. But it’s only a matter of time before I find a way in; I found a way to Dorgen after all.”

“What were you able to discover this time?” Woalfen asked, pouring himself some wine.

“The location of the northern base,” Fomalen said, his eyes lighting up in excitement.

Woalfen’s eyes widened. “That’s big, brother, really big.”

“Not as big as I’d like, I need Dorgen captured, I doubt he’s escaped to the northern base, Musleen’s memories are of a small group. I know Camtan is in the east and Lyrren is somewhere in the west, based on their raiding activities, he’ll have gone to one of them,” Fomalen said. “That is of course assuming that they aren’t using their newfound ability to portal around to keep me guessing, and I still have no idea where Occtir has gotten to.”

“Surely this ability is limited?” Woalfen said. “In forty three years the only evidence of it was when they were desperate. If they could portal easily then their raids would have been far more effective.”

“True,” Fomalen said. “I’m still periodically checking for travel runes across the realm, I’m hoping that I’ll be able to catch them out the next time they try to use one.”

“Do you think they’ll use a portal to evacuate the northern base?” Woalfen asked. “You could wait for it to appear and then locate the runes.”

“A very good idea, brother, setting a trap for them to walk right into. I like it,” Formalen said.

“Anything to help you claim victory,” Woalfen said.

“Anything to hurry up your reunion with Sleeping Beauty,” Fomalen corrected.

Woalfen raised an eyebrow. “Do you really think that I care nothing for you, brother? You are my king, through your own wits and cunning, I might add. I admire you ambition and I fully support you in your endeavours, I did so even before you promised me Musleen as my reward.”

Fomalen took a sip of his wine. “You are correct, brother, I apologise. I have been somewhat harsh these past few weeks, having come so close to capturing Dorgen and then losing him again.”

Woalfen frowned. “Why do you wish him captured? Surely dead would be the better alternative?”

“Not quite,” Fomalen said. “At least, not *yet*. I need him for something, the others can die though, in fact I’d prefer it.”

Woalfen frowned in confusion. “I don’t understand,” he said.

“Do you remember when we were children and our father showed us the weapons vault?” Fomalen asked.

“Yes? It was full of weapons, which I personally found rather boring,” Woalfen said.

“There’s a vault within the vault,” Fomalen said. “And only the King of Vanaheim may gain access.”

“Dorgen knows the way in?” Woalfen guessed.

“Dorgen *is* the way in, the vault is locked by seidr,” Fomalen said.

“How does the vault know whose king?” Woalfen asked.

“The witnesses at birth,” Fomalen said triumphantly. “It’s not just a silly tradition, if the birth is witnessed by three people who are *themselves* are recognised by the spell as legitimate, either through their own witnessed birth or by official marriage, then it will accept the newcomer into the fold, so to speak. We were all witnessed, we can all be the true king, provided the others die.”

“So why not just kill them all until you get to Musleen? I’ll order him to open the vault for you,” Woalfen said.

Fomalen was already shaking his head. “I’ve studied this thing for centuries, brother, there are clauses on it that you wouldn’t believe. Do you know that I no longer qualify because I tried to kill someone higher in the order than I am?”

“Who did you try to kill?” Woalfen asked, surprised. “You weren’t *trying* to kill Dorgen or Musleen, you ordered Camtan’s death when he was briefly captured, but you weren’t going to carry it out yourself.”

“The King,” Fomalen said. “Our Uncle. That’s why I was banished, or more correctly, I was banished because I managed to make it look like I was stealing from him instead of about to stab him with his own knife. The spell recognised my intent and abandoned me. I *felt* it leave, it was rather alarming. I fled to Asgard that night and, rather than bring disgrace to the royal family by demanding I face a public trial, our Uncle allowed me to go and stay gone.”

“I never knew, brother,” Woalfen said. 

“Well, failed regicide isn’t something to boast about,” Fomalen said. “I wasn’t aware of the true consequences of my actions until I began to study the vault in earnest, and that was many years later. I believe there is a weapon of incredible power in there, something that could help me secure the realm, possibly even beyond the realm. And so I have two alternatives: Kill everyone higher in the order than Musleen, or capture Dorgen, and, given that Dorgen, Lyrren *and* Occtir are still out there and I don’t know where, killing them is proving to be quite difficult. If my original plan had gone off as intended, Dorgen would have fallen to the floor as a –ha– dead weight. They wouldn’t have bothered trying to carry out a ‘dead’ man. I would have had access to the vault that night, but instead Musleen had to slip his marriage bonds.”

“I’m just glad he survived, I’ve never felt such fear before,” Woalfen admitted. His brother was the only one he could admit such things to, everyone else had always found it creepy.

“It was pure chance that the blade struck his heart, I was going to hit Dorgen in a lung; it would have given me more time to pull the blade and activate the healing spell without risking his death. Musleen was lucky,” Fomalen said.

Woalfen shuddered. “It didn’t feel lucky,” he said.

“He’s here now, isn’t he? Sleeping Beauty will wake when I have control of Vanaheim and then you can fuck him with his eyes open,” Fomalen said, before laughing at Woalfen’s wince. “Surely you aren’t upset by my words? What else on Vanaheim could you possibly be doing in there with him all day? I’ve taken to knocking at the door in case I interrupt something I’d rather not see.”

“I prefer my lovers to be awake, actually,” Woalfen said, a little primly. “I want to see the understanding in his eyes.”

It was Fomalen’s turn to look surprised. “Oh, I assumed you lacked the self-control, once again I apologise.”

Woalfen shrugged, a wicked little smile coming onto his features. “You wouldn’t be so wrong if he reacted a little, I can’t say I’m not intrigued by the idea of making him cum in his sleep, but right now he might as well be dead, I’ll wait.”

“Brother you are disgusting,” Fomalen said with a grin. “Do me a favour and let me have dinner with you both after your first night together, I want to see the halfbreed’s face after you’re done.”

Woalfen sat back and finished his wine. “I see no reason why that can’t be accomplished,” he said with a gleam in his eye. 

****

Loki looked over the cleared ground. He’d tried to help but his long day of climbing had finally caught up with him, and he’d been reduced to watching on the sidelines with Daenceia. Camtan joined them after an hour, equally exhausted, as Shiarpia and her dedicated band of men finished the task.

Band was the right word actually, the five men in question were the Thunder Boys. They had joined the resistance together in the early days, mostly for moral reasons, although the drummer, Rindill Wraenyrson, was also following his wife. Loki wondered where his father, Wreanyr, was and whether he was still at the palace, trapped into serving Fomalen and his allies.

“Someone grabbed your bag during the evacuation,” Camtan said. “It’s in the main tent apparently.”

“Oh, good,” Loki said. “I’ve got a lot of stuff in there.”

Camtan frowned. “It’s a pretty small bag,” he said.

“It’s riddled with seidr,” Loki said. “I’ve got books I’ve collected, items of magical value, spare clothes, spare knives, all kinds of things really.”

“Any books that can help us now?” Daenceia asked.

Loki shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I mostly collected folk stories from my travels, Midgard was a good place for stories. I even went back there a few times over the years to see if they had any new ones.”

“Oh? How were they going the last time you were there?” Camtan asked.

Loki shook his head. “They were killing each other over different ways to worship the same god,” he said.

“That’s stupid,” Daenceia said.

“Very,” Loki agreed, “But they had some damn good stories. I have one volume, by a man named Giambattista Basile, it’s a collection of ‘fairy tales’. I enjoyed it greatly, enough to take a copy with me when I left.”

“Ground’s cleared,” Shiarpia called out, “what’s next?”

Loki looked up. “Two circles, one inside the other, with enough room for the runes to be drawn,” he said. “And divided up into eighths.”

Shiarpia nodded. “Right,” she said and went back to the cleared ground.

“I should get out one of the detonators,” Camtan said, but he sounded half asleep.

“I think we might be forgiven for resting for a bit,” Daenceia said, glancing at him. “We don’t need the detonator until Hummingbird’s team gets back with the rest of the equipment.”

Loki nodded, fighting sleep. The dim lighting provided by insufficient crystals wasn’t helping.

“Tell me a story, Loki,” Camtan said, he shifted to lie on the ground. “Keep me awake.”

“You won’t stay awake,” Loki said, yawning.

“I will if your story is interesting enough,” Camtan shot back.

Loki tried to punch Camtan’s arm but his blow was pathetic in its weakness.

When the circles were dug out properly, Shiarpia looked up and saw the three of them lying fast asleep on the ground.

“Weak,” she said with her hands on her hips and a fond smile on her face. “All of them, weak, it’s that noble lifestyle I swear to you.”

“Good thing we don’t have that then,” Rindill said, hugging her from behind and planting a fond kiss on her cheek. “We’d better get them a blanket or something.”

“Yes, there’s one in my pack,” Shiarpia said. “We can wake them when it’s time to eat.”

****

Loki was woken by Dorgen, who was holding a communication talisman. 

“Loks, I know you should really sleep, given what we’re planning, but I didn’t think you’d forgive me if I didn’t tell you that I’ve made contact with Vision-“

Loki was upright so fast he accidently threw off the blanket covering him, Daenceia and Camtan. He eagerly took the talisman from Dorgen as the King of Vanaheim gently replaced the blanket back over them.

“Mothe- I mean Vision?” Loki asked.

“I’m here Loks,” came Frigga’s warm voice. “Are you well?”

“Of course I’m well, are you? Where are you? Are you anywhere near help? I’m going to try and get you as soon as I can set up a portal,” Loki said in a rush.

“Calm down, Loks, we are managing well enough,” Frigga said. “I’m just delighted to hear your voice. Your brother has written me letters over the years telling me of your adventures, but I have longed to see you again; when this is over you’ll have to tell me all about your travels.”

“I will,” Loki promised. “But I’m still going to bring you here as soon as I can.”

“We’ve been quite lucky, I assure you that we’re managing quite well, don’t push yourself,” Frigga warned.

Loki thought about his climbing adventure so soon after opening a portal against the strength of a shield strong enough to hold back the Bifrost. “I won’t,” he said.

“Are you lying to your mother?” Frigga asked immediately.

Loki saw Dorgen hastily hide his expression by turning his head away. He shot him a glare for good measure before replying. “No, I’m not going to push myself, *anymore*,” he said.

“I will hold you to that,” Frigga said. “Loks, I have to sign off, we’re almost at our time limit, and I don’t want to risk Fomalen tracing our communication.”

“I understand,” Loki said. “I love you.”

“I love you too, _stay safe_.” Frigga said before the crystal went dark.

“Thank you,” Loki said to Dorgen as he handed back the crystal.

“You can bring her to the new base as soon as we figure out a way to ensure Fomalen can’t trace the runes,” Dorgen said.

Loki nodded. “There’ll be a way,” he said. “And I’ll find it as soon as I have a minute to sit down and study.”

Dorgen chuckled. “Loks, I haven’t found a minute since this war started,” he said.

Loki nodded. “Then I’ll just have to kill Fomalen,” he said. “He can’t be allowed to keep a man from his mother, that’s a step too far.”

Dorgen nodded seriously. “He has crossed a line there, I agree,” he deadpanned.


	58. Fifty Seven Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Movement and Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to apologise for not updating sooner. Work is just hectic at the moment, but hopefully should calm down soon for a few weeks and I'll get more written.

It took four days for Haewkyr’s team to return. Once they established that the camp was undisturbed they had packed up as much of it as they could carry.

“That’s most of it,” Haewkyr said. “We left cut timber and spoiled food, mostly. All the tents were packed and the light crystals. The healers already got the smaller medicines out but we packed up the healer tent and a bunch of the bigger bandages and supplies.”

“Good work,” Dorgen said. “Don’t bother to unpack any of it, we’ll pack up this camp after dinner and organise ourselves properly so as to get through the portal as quickly as possible. Loki, will the portal cover the entire area within the circle?”

“Yes, it’s about wide enough for three people to run through abreast, although I advise that the two at the edges tuck their arms in at the point of entry, just to be safe,” Loki said. “Are you sure that you want to go through at night? Fomalen hasn’t found us and morning might be a better time to set up a new camp.”

“No, Fomalen’s more likely to track the runes during the day, if we open the portal at midnight then with luck he’ll be asleep,” Dorgen said. “We can get through and clear the runes without being detected at all.”

“I’ll grab a detonator and make sure it’s free from the packs,” Camtan said. 

“So there was no sign of him at all?” Loki asked Haewkyr.

“None,” Haewkyr said, shaking his head. “I even scouted to the rune site, Fomalen’s men had destroyed the runes but there was no sign they’d been back since.”

“I hope this new place is as good as the birds say it is or we’re in for a lot of hard work,” Loki said.

Haewkyr shrugged. “The birds only know what they can see, *they* say it’s regular stone, that usually means a building of some kind. They also say it is empty, which isn’t surprising given how far out it is. We have to take the chance.”

Loki nodded and grabbed his bag, pulling out a book. “I’ve been reading the Midgardian ‘fairy tales’ to the camp at meal times,” he said, catching Haewkyr’s curious look. “Dog says that it’s helping with their morale, I can’t tell really, but Taps said the same thing to me yesterday, so I’m going to keep it up.”

“What’s a fairy tale? I didn’t know Midgard had fairies,” Haewkyr said.

“They don’t, it’s just stories that they tell one another, often with morals in them,” Loki said. “Like sagas, but shorter. They call them fairy tales because the stories often involve seidr, and sometimes fairies.”

“Sounds good, I’d like to hear something new,” Haewkyr said as they made their way to where the campfires were dotted amongst a hastily made central clearing. “How do they all hear you?”

“I use a simple spell,” Loki said. “It makes my voice travel to their all ears within a specified distance. If I could make it go as far as the army bases then I’d tell them all Dog was still alive, but it’s short range only I’m afraid.”

They sat down by one of the fires; Daenceia was already there with Shiarpia and Rindill, who nodded nervously at both of them. Being of commoner decent he was naturally a little nervous around nobles, but Shiarpia made up for it by not giving a damn.

Camtan reappeared and tucked a small device beside him as he sat down. “Smells good,” he said to the woman stirring the pot over their fire.

“It’s rodent stew, your Grace,” she said with a small curtsy.

Loki tried very hard to keep from grimacing, but Camtan appeared genuine when he thanked her for a small bowlful to go with his stale bread.

“It’s not that bad,” he said to Loki. “Or maybe I’m just used to it,” he added with a worried look as Loki tried the stew.

It was that bad, but Loki forced a smile anyway. “Lovely,” he said.

The woman served everyone at the fire and some more who lined up until the pot was empty, all around them people tore their bread and dipped it into variations of rodent stew.

“Hopefully this new place has rabbits,” Haewkyr said. “They won’t enter the dark forest, there’s nothing for them to eat, but the rodents eat burrowing bugs, and they go everywhere.”

“Bug fed rodent stew,” Loki muttered. “Do we have any more of that healer’s broth?”

Daenceia bumped his shoulder. “I think you’re forgetting how bad that really was,” she said.

Loki ate another bite of the stew. “I might still risk it,” he said to her.

After he’d eaten, Loki stood up and muttered the hearing spell, then he opened his book and began to read. He read the tale ‘Peruonto’, from Giambattista Basile, about a boy who was given a charm that would grant him anything he wanted, and how he used it to make his firewood fly home with him astride it, and ended up marrying a princess. The camp was almost silent as Loki talked; it had been a long time since any of them had spoken about anything other than the war and their losses.

Haewkyr watched Camtan’s face as Loki talked. Even the Prince who’d grown so bitter looked softer and more like himself as he listened.

But then the tale ended and it was back to business. Loki put his book away in his bag, putting it next to several others of a similar type and closing the flap over the top of them, which would activate the seidr spell and send them into a pocket dimension until he wanted them again.

Then he muttered a spell over the bag and reopened it. It was full of fine sand. Loki carried the bag to the circle and began to spread the sand between the two lines that had been cut out. 

“You carried around sand with you?” Camtan asked, catching sight of him.

“Sometimes there would be no way to carve runes when I needed them,” Loki explained, still scattering sand. “Like here, the ground has been cleared but it’s bloody hard clay, and writing on dirt isn’t exactly easy. I’ll scatter the sand and draw the runes into it.”

“Your bag must weigh a great deal,” Camtan said, scooping up some sand and helping him to carefully scatter it between the lines.

“Not at all, the seidr spells I cast on it over the years are very sophisticated, it weighs only enough to tell me it hasn’t fallen off my shoulder, but no more, no matter how much I put in it,” Loki said. 

“Now that’s a good thing to have on a scramble pack,” Camtan said. “Any chance you can cast it on ours?”

Loki hesitated, giving Camtan his answer before he even spoke. “It’s not one spell I’m afraid, it’s thirty two. I can do it in between other things though.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Camtan said. “We’re hopefully not going to need them any time soon anyway, and we can all carry what we need.”

They finished spreading the sand and Camtan pulled the detonator out of his pocket. “Nasty little thing,” he said. “We stole them from one of Fomalen’s weapons caches, then we burned the place to the ground, we were hoping to use them to do damage to the shield crystals, but that was before we realised that taking out a few still wouldn’t bring the whole thing down.”

“I want to study that network,” Loki said. “And I want to study the communications network to see if there’s a way to break in past Fomalen’s lockout, and I want to figure out a way to hide runes from Fomalen, and I want to kill Fomalen, there are so many things that I want to do right now.”

“It’s nice to have goals,” Camtan joked. 

He set the detonator down and secured it with some rocks. “I’ve set it for a ten minute countdown once it’s activated,” he said. “How long do you think we’ll need to get through the portal?”

“There’re just over two hundred of us,” Loki said. “Three to a row, going through at a jog, about three seconds per row, maybe… four minutes? Provided that there’re no hold ups.”

“I’ll activate it as you open the portal then,” Camtan said. “That’ll give us a six minute window for hold ups. Tell me, can the runes be covered by something and still work, provided that they aren’t damaged?”

“As long as they aren’t touched in any way,” Loki said. “Why? What were you thinking of?”

“If we could drop a nice heavy rock over some of them after they’re activated, then if Fomalen does show up he won’t be able to see where we’re going, and he’ll only have six minutes, probably less, to move a bloody big rock before everything is blasted to pieces,” Camtan said.

Loki shook his head. “A rock that heavy would touch the runes and ruin the spell,” he said. “We’re going to have to risk it.”

He looked up through the trees, where Dorgen was making the rebels march in formation with their packs on their backs; it was almost time.

****

Fomalen surveyed his men with an expert eye. They had already raided the southern base for him, and killed over a hundred rebels in the process, now they would be going after a smaller target. The northern base would be raided tonight and the rebels captured, at least as far as possible. Fomalen had ordered the rebels at the southern base to be killed, but only because he didn’t want his men wasting time with small prizes when they were supposed to be finding Dorgen.

Dorgen wasn’t at the northern base, Fomalen was sure of it, and so this time he wanted prisoners to torture and break.

He turned to the much larger group waiting in the training yard. As soon as the northern base was attacked, he would begin searching for new runes, and hopefully these men would be sent to capture Dorgen. *They* were ordered to kill without mercy.

Tonight was going to go well, Fomalen could feel it; it was almost time.

****

Woalfen finished his orgasm with a final grunt and rolled off his wife. Ellumyr stayed where he was, breathing heavily for a few minutes to get his breath back.

“I will never get tired of that,” he panted, shooting Woalfen a smile.

Woalfen returned it, but his expression was tight and guarded. He’d been like that for a while.

Ellumyr rolled onto his side to face his husband.

“Is everything all right?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, everything is fine,” Woalfen said. “I have to get back to work.”

“This late? With his Majesty downstairs with the guards?” Ellumyr asked. “What are you doing in his chambers that is so important?”

Woalfen shot him a stern look and Ellumyr held up his hands in surrender. “I apologise, I wasn’t prying,” he said. “I just don’t like to see you so worn out. Surely you can take a break for one night? I’ll make you a nice drink and rub your feet.”

“No,” Woalfen said, already picturing Musleen kneeling while massaging his feet by the fire. “I need to get back.”

“Are you going to kill me?” Ellumyr asked bluntly, causing Woalfen to pause in surprise.

“What? No! Why would you think that?” he asked.

“Because you’ve become rather distant since his Majesty took over, like I don’t please you anymore. If it weren’t for the fact that you spend all your time in the king’s chambers I’d think you were having an affair,” Ellumyr said. “And if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather a divorce than an execution.”

Woalfen settled back onto the bed and pulled Ellumyr into his arms. 

“I was not planning to kill you,” he said. “You’ve been… everything to me for centuries now. You’ve indulged me in ways I could not even describe to others for fear of embarrassment or worse, death.”

“I played a good Musleen,” Ellumyr said, snuggling against him. “You’ve always said so.”

“You have, you let me call you by his name, you died your hair a little darker like his is and dressed in his preferred colours, you have saved me from madness I’m sure of it, no, I would not kill you,” Woalfen said. “Besides,” he added, “you run my household better than I do, it’s hard to find that kind of help.”

“So it’s just the strain of the war then? You have not found anyone else?” Ellumyr asked.

Woalfen sighed. “There’s… been a development, it is a guarded secret and I will tell you no more, but I promise you, Ellumyr, that I will take care of you, and you will not be executed. To be honest I think you’ll enjoy the development, once I am allowed to make it known. You like it when I bring home a whore for us to play with, after all.”

Ellumyr placed a hand over Woalfen’s lips. “Say no more, husband, least you give away what you shouldn’t,” he said. “I won’t ask again about this ‘development’, just come home occasionally so I can suck you’re penis until you scream. I miss it.”

Woalfen smiled down at him. Ellumyr may have been a tavern waiter with a preference for kinky sex when they met, but he’d been a wonderful asset to Woalfen’s household ever since their marriage. Granted, with the real Musleen almost within his grasp, Ellumyr was no longer anywhere near as appealing as he used to be, but Woalfen still wasn’t going to throw away the best relationship he had just because the real Musleen would finally be his.

Besides, how else would he find out whether his fantasy of watching Musleen fuck himself was really as hot as he thought it was?

****

Loki stood nervously by the circle. It was finally time to go. The rebels were all lined up and ready to jog through, Haewkyr and a small group of volunteers were in the trees in case Fomalen made an appearance, and Camtan was standing by the detonator.

Dorgen gave Loki a nod. “Begin,” he said.

Loki turned to the circle and began to draw runes into the sand with a stick. He drew as quickly as he could, knowing that the more he completed, the easier it would be for Fomalen to track them down.

Daenceia helped speed things up by drawing in the commonly used runes on the other side. The atmosphere was tense as the rebels waited for Loki to finish. 

Loki drew the last rune and held out his hands, quickly activating the spell. The portal opened in front of him, sending a quick flash of light into the sky.

“Go,” Loki yelled.

Camtan started the detonator as the first of the rebels began jogging through the portal. They stayed on one another’s heels and stared straight ahead, ignoring all distractions around them. The only thing that mattered in this moment was making it through as quickly as possible.

Camtan joined Dorgen and Daenceia at the side of the line. “You should have gone through first,” he said.

Dorgen shook his head. “Steel is marking my place in the line, I’ll join her very soon,” he said. “Taps is coming with us; tell me you have a place.”

“I do have a place,” Camtan said. “At the end, with Hummingbird and his guards, and Loki of course, he has to go through last or the portal will close behind him and trap the rest of us here.”

“Here comes Steel,” Daenceia said. “See you on the other side, Cat.”

She and Dorgen began to jog slowly next to the line, as Mulmyr caught up with them they gained speed and slotted themselves into place just before entering the portal.

Camtan glanced at the trees as he made his way over to Loki, who was still focussing hard on the portal. He was sweating from the effort, even with the runes to help him.

Camtan’s communication amulet suddenly activated. 

“Cat, we’ve reached the other side, it’s some kind of castle. It’s still standing, although it must be an incredibly great age,” Dorgen’s voice said. “We’re going to set up in the yard area until we’re sure the building will hold us.”

Camtan held the amulet in his fist. “Good to know, we’re about halfway done here,” he said.

The amulet suddenly grew warm in his hand.

“Dog, Cat, we’re under attack!” 

Camtan held the amulet tightly, that was the voice of Hieddenyr, from the northern base.

“Are you able to escape?” came Dorgen’s voice.

“No, we’re trapped, they’ve covered every exit,” Hieddenyr said. “Stoandyr has already fallen outside. We’ll try to take as many down with us as we can.”

Camtan heard the sound of shots through the amulet.

“I’m going to destroy the communication device now, so they can’t use it to track you down,” Hieddenyr said, he sounded like a man who was trying to seem calm, but was struggling with the task. “Good luck, your Majesty, and may you succeed in crushing Fomalen.”

The amulet went dark. Camtan stared at it in frustration and helplessness. There was nothing they could do, nothing at all. If Loki wasn’t holding the existing portal open then maybe he could quickly draw some runes, but-

A second portal opened less than a hundred feet away from where Camtan was standing. His eyes widened as Fomalen’s men began to pour through. Camtan reached for the weapon at his side.

Like the Aesir the Vanir believed in honour in battle, and energy weapons like the one Camtan now held were usually considered a last resort against overwhelming odds.

Fomalen did not subscribe to that theory, and all his men were armed with energy weapons, as a result, the rebels had been forced to begin using them as well, although in their case they only had a few to share.

The first wave of Fomalen’s men was mowed down by flying death from above as Haewkyr’s guards fired arrows at the portal mouth.

Camtan took aim and shot, aiming for anyone he saw holding an energy weapon, as they could do the most damage from a distance. Behind him, the rebel line jogged onwards. They kept their heads down and tried to keep moving quickly, the faster they got through the portal the faster Haewkyr’s guards could come down from the trees and join them.

Camtan saw one guard raised his weapon and aim at the line. He shot, hitting the man in the shoulder. Another energy blast came from the trees, Shiarpia was on the ground and firing from beneath a tree root, picking off the men one by one.

Another wave of arrows took out more men, but they were gaining ground. Camtan switched to firing with his left hand as he drew his sword. Several shots came from the Fomalen’s men and hit the line, making people fall. Their comrades grabbed them and hauled them along, but the pace of the line slowed as a result. Several rebels who carried bows took aim as they ran, shooting back at their attackers.

As the first of Fomalen’s men came close enough, Camtan swung his sword and cut the man’s head clean off. He spun and stabbed another before slicing through the hand of a third, who screamed and backed off as blood spurted everywhere.

Haewkyr dropped from the trees behind the wave of men and began swinging his axe, cutting them down from behind. Arrows continued to fly as the rebel line got smaller and smaller. Camtan drew back to protect Loki, firing at anyone who came near them both, and swinging his sword warily.

The rebels were almost through; Camtan could see the end of the line. More people there had drawn their bows and were firing as they jogged, trying to hold back the rush of Fomalen’s men. 

Something made Camtan glance down at the detonator, which was directly beneath his feet. It still had three minutes to go; the attack had delayed them, but possibly not by enough.

Shiarpia fired five shots in rapid succession, followed by a blast of seidr energy from her hand that knocked six men off their feet, before rising quickly from the ground and running for the end of the line. Rindill dropped from the trees and shadowed her, holding his bow and firing on the run. Haewkyr gave a yell from his position and his team all fired in unison, causing Fomalen’s men to duck their heads, before dropping from the trees and running for the portal. One man was hit in the back, but his comrades grabbed him and dragged him the rest of the way.

They made it through, leaving only Loki, Camtan and Haewkyr on the other side of the portal.

“Go!” Loki yelled at Camtan, his eyes on the men charging towards them.

“Not until you do!” Camtan shouted back. “We’ve got three minutes to boom-time, we have to keep them back, and Haewkyr’s still on the far side!”

Loki looked through the crowd of men and found Haewkyr, who was battling three of them on the far side of the clearing.

“Hummingbird! Get over here!” he screamed.

Haewkyr swung his axe, slicing through the face of one attacker and forcing the others back. He squared his shoulders, braced himself, and, roaring loudly, charged through the crowd of men, swinging his axe and screaming like a berserker.

Several of the men fell back in shock, others fell to his axe. Camtan shot over and over again as Haewkyr charged, trying to clear his way through. A group of men reached where Loki and Camtran stood and he was forced to defend himself with his sword. 

“Give me the weapon!” Loki yelled.

Camtan thrust it in Loki’s direction, still focussed on the men in front of him. Loki grabbed the energy weapon and took over firing, trying to aim while keeping his mind on maintaining the portal behind him.

From the other side of the clearing Fomalen walked through his portal, which closed behind him. He scanned the odd scene in front of him, looking around until his eyes locked with Loki’s. Loki raised the weapon and fired, forcing Fomalen to dive out of the way. Loki watched as Fomalen hit the ground and rolled, springing up immediately and raising his hands in a defensive posture.

Camtan ran his opponent through and risked a look down. His eyes widened in sudden panic.

“We have to go!” he yelled.

Two more men were charging at them, only to be knocked violently aside by Haewkyr as he charged right through them from behind. He reached them both, ducking low and scooping them up by their waists and throwing them over his shoulders as he dove through the portal.

Loki watched as the world went flying backwards away from him, before he was suddenly in a new place, with very hard ground.

All three of them hit it hard as they landed, and the portal closed behind them.

“I saw Fomalen,” Loki gasped. “I hope he doesn’t get a good look at the runes.”

“Not with five seconds left on the detonator,” Camtan said with a wild-looking grin. “It’ll be rubble right about… *now*.”

****

_five seconds earlier_

Fomalen screamed in disappointment as the three men disappeared through the portal, closing it. The runes still glowed on the ground though, and Fomalen hurried closer with a feeling of glee to see where they’d gone.

He saw the detonator. He saw the timer. Fomalen spun, forced a new portal open and jumped through just as the detonator exploded, blowing the entire area to the pieces no bigger than gravel.

Some of the blast followed him through his portal, slamming him into the floor of his chambers hard enough to break ribs. Fomalen groaned in pain and spat a tooth out onto the carpet, along with a mouthful of blood.

He had missed Dorgen, he had failed to kill Camtan _again_ , his plan had been an utter failure, and he’d lost over thirty good men to that blast.

Dammit, dammit, dammit!

But at least now he knew why they had suddenly started to use portals, he recognised the man holding it open. Loki of Asgard was on Vanaheim, and helping his old ‘family’. 

But not for long, at least, not once Fomalen got a hold of him. He had plans for Loki of Asgard, plans that he’d been worried that he wouldn’t be able to put into effect, but if Loki was here rather than travelling across the galaxy…

A sharp pain brought him back to reality. He really needed to see a healer now. He could focus on Loki later, he could focus on *Dorgen* later, the plan had not been a success, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t have options, and there was still the raid on the northern base. Who knew what information those prisoners had? 

But first, a healer, a very, very, good healer.

****

The new base was indeed an old castle, although ancient was perhaps the better word. It consisted of a central tower with an enormous wall around the outside. 

It also had a half-decomposed snake monster in one of the courtyards, which was causing a bit of concern.

“Explanations? Anyone?” Dorgen asked as they stood there, looking at it with a mixture of reactions. 

There was a collective shaking of heads.

“What of the northern base?” Camtan asked him quietly as the group dispersed to set up their tents on the other side of the castle yard.

Dorgen sighed as though in pain. “There was nothing we could do with Loki holding open our portal, and I won’t ask him to open one without runes,” he said.

“They definitely tracked the runes,” Camtan said, sounding pained. “But taking out the northern base at the same time is too much of a co-incidence, there has to be a spy in our camp.”

“A spy who knew where the southern base was *and* the northern one? Even Burtchen doesn’t know exactly where the western or northern base is, and Stoandyr didn’t know where any of the other bases were. Musleen kept his men in the dark on purpose so that they couldn’t give anyone away if they were captured and tortured. He was the only one who knew everything.”

“How else can you explain it?” Camtan asked.

Dorgen sighed heavily. “I don’t know, Cat, there’s no good explanation, and now we’ve lost the northern base, and forty good people with it.”

He kicked the ground in frustration, a move unbecoming of a king, but perfect for a leader facing his losses.

“We’ll win,” Camtan said. “I have to believe that, we’ll win and Fomalen will face trial and be put to death, and we’ll go home and I’ll see my children-“ his voice cracked, but he took a hard breath and swallowed his tears down, “-and Vanaheim will heal from Fomalen’s wounds and we’ll… move… on.”

Dorgen wordlessly put an arm around his younger brother’s shoulders. Moving on was something Camtan may never do. He and Musleen had been best friends as well as brothers. The realm would forget their brother in time, but Camtan never would.

And Dorgen never would either.


	59. Fifty Eight Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Ancient Seat of Power

They lost two people in Fomalen’s attack. Five others were wounded. Thainia and her healers worked frantically to save limbs and heal burns as the others lay down and tried to sleep until sunrise. Once the sun brought enough light to see by they rose and began to set out the new camp into some kind of order.

Haewkyr took a shovel and headed out beyond the walls of the castle to dig two graves.

“I wish we could do something better for them,” he said to Loki, who had accompanied him.

They both tried to dig into the hard ground, only to find that they could not break through the roots of the trees.

“Now what?” Loki asked.

Haewkyr sighed. “I can get my axe and cut down some of this timber, maybe we can cover them with branches instead of earth.”

“Loki? Dog wants to talk to you,” called Shiarpia, making Loki look up.

He waved to acknowledge her. “I’ll send a few people out here to help you cut the branches,” he said to Haewkyr as he turned away.

“We appear to be right in the heart of the dark forest,” Haewkyr said. “I’m amazed that the trees haven’t taken the castle.”

“Seidr,” Loki said, “I can feel it all around me; this place has been preserved.”

“I wonder why?” Haewkyr said. “Go on, don’t keep Dog waiting. You can solve the mystery for me after you’re done.”

“Oh wow, what an honour,” Loki said sarcastically as he walked back through the castle gates.

Shiarpia led Loki through the castle’s main entrance.

“I did a bit of exploring while everyone was finding places to set up their tents,” she said. “The seidr on this place is strong; I doubt the walls are going to come down.”

“I get that impression too,” Loki said, “Whoever preserved this place wanted to make sure it stood for a *long* time, and yet they only preserved the stone, not the wood or the tapestries, assuming they had tapestries.”

“Dog is in the hall, it’s a bit pokey for a castle, but probably not for when it was built,” Shiarpia said.

They went through an opening where wooden doors must once have stood. The wood had rotted away, leaving only the great iron braces lying on the floor where they had fallen. They were half rusted and fused together. Loki stepped around them and looked up to see Dorgen standing before the raised platform at the end of the hall. Loki walked over to him.

“You wanted to see me?” he asked.

Dorgen turned to look at him. “Loki, yes, I wanted to go over what happened when Fomalen attacked. I’ve heard Camtan’s report, and I’ll want Haewkyr’s once you are finished.”

Loki shrugged. “I was concentrating on keeping the portal open for the most part,” he said. “I wasn’t aware the other portal had opened at first, but when Camtan came to stand beside me I saw he had his weapon out. I mostly tried to stay back, out of the way; if I’d been hit I might have lost concentration and the portal would have closed and trapped people on the wrong side. Once most of the people were through I was able to take Camtan’s weapon and use it to defend the portal while Haewkyr fought his way through the attackers.”

“Camtan said you saw Fomalen,” Dorgen said.

“Yes, he came through after the men had made the entrance to his portal secure. I fired at him but he dodged the blast. I didn’t have time for another shot because Haewkyr reached us and threw us through the portal.”

“Did Fomalen see you?” Dorgen asked.

“Yes, we made eye contact, there’s no way he missed who I was,” Loki said.

“Vanaheim is still under quarantine and a communication blackout,” Dorgen said. “Fomalen won’t contact Prince Thor right now, or try to make a diplomatic incident out of you helping us. If he defeats us however he may use this to his advantage.”

“Then we won’t let him win,” Loki said, “and Thor’s not stupid, he’ll demand to talk to me before ceding anything in exchange for my interference in Vanir politics.”

Dorgen nodded. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he said, looking around the hall. “But the fact remains that Fomalen now knows you are here, we need to be careful not to let him use this information to his advantage.”

“What do you think of the new base?” Loki asked.

“It’s suitable, thank goodness, although I’m intrigued by its very existence. I thought all the old castles were accounted for, and frankly I don’t recognise the style of building. Some things, yes, like the carvings for health and prosperity over the doorways, which means this place once had a link to our culture, but I’ve no idea when they lived or why they would preserve the building, and frankly that snake monster in the courtyard is disturbing me. That’s not normal, not even for old abandoned castles,” Dorgen said.

“Well, we know that this is where the ruler sat,” Loki pointed out. “There’s a crown in the dust.”

Dorgen turned and looked down. “So there is,” he said. “I didn’t even see it the dust is so thick.”

He knelt down carefully and lifted the paper-thin crown out of the dust pile. Loki watched as he twisted the crown slowly until the front came into view. His face changed, a flash of surprise and realisation showed on his face, and he stood up abruptly.

“We’re staying in the courtyard,” he said suddenly, before turning around and raising his voice. “Did you hear that? The camp stays outside unless I say otherwise.”

“What is it?” Loki asked.

The crown was thin and delicate, with no decoration. It had an oddly shaped hole in the front, presumably for a gem of some kind, although it must have been an odd thing to shape, the base was longer than the rest of the sides, with a zigzag pattern across the top. To Loki’s eyes it sort of looked like a crown in the style of some of the Midgardian kings he’d seen on his travels. The gem itself was missing. Loki noted with interest that Dorgen did not so much as scan the dust for it.

“This place is older than even I first thought,” Dorgen said as Camtan came over, looking intrigued. “And we need to preserve it as much as possible, so no sweeping out the dust and no setting up our things inside unless I say so.”

“Not a problem, we’re used to being outside. We can even set up in the trees if you think we should,” Camtan said. “I’d like to know what’s caused that look on your face though.”

Dorgen glanced down at the crown and ran a finger over the edges of the hole in the front. “This shape, do you recognise it, brother?” he asked.

Camtan glanced at it and his eyes widened. “That’s the same shape as our royal standard,” he said. “We’ve had that standard ever since our ancestors came to the High Mountains…”

“Fleeing an unnamed terror,” Dorgen finished for him. “The records of their journey were sketchy, but I do know that they had to travel *around* an existing kingdom.”

“Lord Fallconyr’s lands,” Camtan said with a smile. “They used to be the kings of that land before the war of unification.”

“Like most of the Lords today who still live in their ancestral homes,” Dorgen said, nodding. “Our ancestors made it to the high mountains, back when the sea level was higher and they were a good place for a seat of power. But this place must have been where they came from, and if so, then it’s far older than we realised, maybe even the castle founded by Njörðr himself. We need to preserve it as much as possible, and send out a team of archaeologists as soon as we can.”

“All that from one crown?” Loki commented. “Don’t misunderstand me, there appears to be a clear link of some kind, but from a link to ‘original home’ is quite a leap.”

Dorgen and Camtan shared a look.

“We have a reason for thinking what we think, Loks,” Camtan said. “Come on, let’s explore.”

“Wait,” Dorgen said, halting Camtan in his tracks. “This place has been preserved by a spell, someone wanted it to survive.”

“Someone wanted the stone to survive,” Loki corrected. “The wood is gone, the furniture, anything that can degrade has been left to do so. Only the stone was allowed to stay standing.”

“Is it harder to preserve the wood and things?” Camtan asked. “Maybe they just didn’t have the power?”

“Actually it’s the same,” Loki said. “It prevents damaged caused by natural interference, weather mostly, wind and rain, although it also prevents microbes from attacking. The original spell is designed so that you can come back and literally pick up where you left off, even food should still be fresh.”

“What about people?” Camtan asked, shuddering slightly. “Can you imagine a whole castle of people all frozen in time?”

“They wouldn’t be frozen,” Loki said. “They’d be sleeping. Nothing can *freeze* people, at least, we’re never discovered a spell that can do it.”

“There are distant rumours that the sorcerers from Jotunheim have the ability, but no one’s ever confirmed it,” Dorgen said. “Do you think that the people would have been left to age and die in their sleep? For thousands of years?”

Loki shook his head. “Their bodies would still be here,” he said. “Once they died the seidr would take them over, did you see the giant monster snake in the yard?”

“Kind of hard to miss,” Camtan muttered.

“It’s half decomposed, that wouldn’t happen if the people were meant to be included in the spell. They thought the stone was worth saving, nothing else.”

“Maybe they thought they’d come back one day,” Camtan said. “Oh, go on, brother, let us explore.”

“You might damage something important,” Dorgen protested.

“We won’t touch anything,” Camtan promised, “and the camp won’t be properly set up for hours.”

“You should be helping them set it up,” Dorgen said, but he was going to give way and they both knew it. Loki could tell by the tone of his voice.

“Loki will come with me, we’ll be perfectly safe,” Camtan said. “Besides, who knows what we might find?”

Loki’s eyes narrowed; had there been just the slightest hint of emphasis on the word ‘find’ when Camtan had spoken? 

Dorgen sighed theatrically, but Loki could swear that he was faking it. “Fine, you may put together a *small,* *careful* team of people to explore the castle. Tell me if you find anything, and be back by lunchtime,” he said.

Camtan shot Loki a grin.

“Who should we take?” he asked, “Haewkyr and Daenceia?”

Loki smiled, determined to puzzle out what was going on as soon as possible, “why not?” he answered.

****

Fomalen limped out of the healer’s chambers. His ribs were healed, but the bruising around them was severe, and there was only so much bruising cream could do.

He’d almost died in pursuit of his goal. For some reason the thought made him giddy. No one had ever really taken him or his ambitions seriously, but now they could see how dedicated to his cause he truly was.

And then there was Loki. Loki was important to his eventual goal, well, he *could* achieve it without Loki, but it’d be a damn sight easier with him involved. 

Despite seeing Loki at the rebel base, clearly helping them in their fight against him, Fomalen was optimistic that he could talk Loki around to his way of thinking. He had always been very persuasive, and really, Loki had been so badly mistreated during his time here, a little reminder here, a nudge there, Loki would join him, Fomalen was sure of it. He just needed a chance to sit down and talk to the young prince.

Fomalen reached the doorway to the dungeon and pushed it open, trying not to groan as his muscles complained.

He could hear the sound of screaming coming from further within. He made his way down the corridor, past the cells where the prisoners sat glaring at him in hatred, to the far chamber where he stepped inside and surveyed what was within.

There was a man strapped to a chair. He was bleeding from numerous places and his eyes were glazed in pain. The torturer, one of Fomalen’s most loyal companions from very early on, turned and shook his head.

“Bastard hasn’t cracked yet, your Majesty,” he said. “But I’ll get him, he’ll be singing like a hummingbird before too long.”

“Hummingbirds don’t sing,” the man said suddenly, and scornfully, “They chatter and… chirp but… they don’t sing.”

Formalen rolled his eyes as the torturer backhanded the man across the face.

“Whatever, you’ll tell us everything, unless you want another round with me and my tools,” he growled.

“Want? No. But… I think it’s the way things… will have to be,” said the man. “I cannot answer the question… you have asked, so… there is nothing you can do to me… to get the answer.”

“Pity,” Fomalen said. “Because if you knew the answer to where Dorgen was then at some point we’d stop hurting you, however if you don’t, then I guess my friend here will just have to keep going until you die.”

“Long live the King,” the man said.

“Hopefully you are right,” Fomalen said with an unnerving smile. “Oh you meant Dorgen? Well, I’d quite like him alive for a little while longer, does that count?”

The man spat in Fomalen’s direction, but he was standing well back and it hit the floor with a bloody splat.

“Enjoy yourself, Palinyr,” Fomalen said to the torturer. “Maybe one of the others will have our answer, you can find out when you’re done with this one.”

He turned and left the room. The screaming started before he was even halfway down the corridor. Fomalen took careful note of the men in the cells. He was good at reading people, and by the time he reached the end he knew which of the men and women in the cells would break. He gave quiet instructions to the guard to pass on to Palinyr regarding who was to go next, Fomalen was in a hurry after all.

****

The four brave explorers decided to tackle the castle one floor at a time, starting with the cellars and the dungeons. Oddly enough, that was Camtan’s suggestion. 

“I just think we should do this systematically,” he said as an explanation. 

“You’ve never worried about things like that before,” Loki pointed out.

“Well now I do,” Camtan said. “We have this morning to explore and then we’re done. Dorgen’s not going to let us leave the war for long.”

“I’m surprised he’s allowing us to now,” Haewkyr said.

“Let’s not dwell on the inner workings of my brother’s mind,” Camtan said. “We’re wasting valuable exploring time.”

He led them down the narrow stone steps and into the cellars beneath the castle. Loki created a light with his hand and watched as Daenceia did likewise. Haewkyr and Camtan made do with a torch each.

The way was just wide enough to allow two people to pass one another if they both leaned against the wall; the group travelled in single file with Camtan leading them. He went quite slowly; his eyes tracked every carving and every stone.

“Surely this isn’t the main way down to the cellars?” Haewkyr said. “It’s so cramped.”

“This place is ancient,” Camtan said. “It was probably impressive for its time.”

“I thought all the ancients lived in palaces made of pure light,” Haewkyr said in a joking kind of voice.

“According to the children’s stories,” Daenceia said. “Even I grew up on the great legends of the past and their amazing seidr-made castles of pure power. But the reality is far different of course, if they knew how to make such wonders then why would they ever build such a small castle of boring stone? No, people lived and died here just like their descendants do now in the palace and manors around the realm.”

“How dull,” Haewkyr said with false petulance. “I wanted my own light-castle. Oh, and by the way, are we going to have a talk about the giant snake-monster in the courtyard? It just seems to stand out as odd to me.”

“I didn’t get a chance to look it over that closely,” Loki said.

“Well it stinks, so I’m not surprised,” Haewkyr said.

“But I thought I recognised a distinctive ‘burn-plus-hole-in-the-back-of-the-neck’ pattern and I’m working on a theory as we speak,” Loki finished.

“You think it was Thor?” Haewkyr asked.

“He found the Emerald of the Last Seer in a castle in Vanaheim somewhere,” Loki said, before suddenly crashing into the back of Camtan, who had stopped and whirled around.

“He _what_?!” he shouted.

“Uh,” Loki started. “I thought you knew?”

“No I did not know, does Dorgen know? Anyone?” Camtan asked, looking concerned.

Loki thought back on what Thor had said and who he’d said it to.

“Was this the errand of grave importance?” Haewkyr asked, breaking into the stare that Camtan was giving Loki.

“You knew too?!” Camtan asked, moving to glare at Haewkyr.

Haewkyr held up his hands in a surrender motion. “I knew he came here on a mission of grave importance, he told Prince Musleen that before we set out to explore the dark forest on those expeditions he planned. That’s all I ever heard.”

Camtan turned back to glare at Loki, who felt unnerved at being interrogated by what had, until now, basically been the Vanir version of a fluffy kitten. 

But kittens had a way of turning into cats, and cats had claws.

“He told me that he found the emerald in a castle in Vanaheim, I never got to hear the whole story, only that he used the emerald to change my fate… apparently things did not end well for me before,” Loki said, making Camtan wince, despite his outrage.

“Nor me, incidentally, or Daenceia, “Haewkyr piped up again. Camtan gave him another glare. “Thor may have mentioned the Norns to me on our travels, he did not mention how he came to meet with them,” Haewkyr added hastily.

“He, uh, he may have picked up this ring,” Loki confessed. “From the castle, he found it and gave it to me. You… you can have it back for the Vanir people if you want it.”

It was a hard offer to make, but if the ring really did come from the castle then it was as old as anything else there.

“Dorgen will have to decide that,” Camtan said, calming down considerably. “It’s just, if this place is as special as it seems, then the thought of a foreign prince just walking in on a quest is upsetting. This is our land.”

“I understand,” Loki said. “And as a Prince of Asgard, albeit one with no intention of ever returning, I’d like to apologise to you and your brother for Thor’s trespass.”

Camtan smiled, he wasn’t capable of staying angry even when he tried.

“I accept for myself, you’ll have to check with Dorgen for his thoughts on the matter. For now let’s continue exploring.”

“Where in the castle did he find the ring?” Daenceia asked.

“He didn’t say,” Loki said. “Actually, it’s got some writing on the inside, I don’t know what it says though, I only learnt to read modern Vanir runes; these are something else.”

“You’ll have to ask Dorgen,” Camtan said. “I think he took ancient languages when he was being tutored, although he may be quite rusty. Musleen would have been able to read it; he studied them for fun after our lessons ended, but then his version of fun was always a little skewed.”

They continued down the corridor to a set of rooms that looked as though they were made for storage. Beyond them was a series of archways that looked as though they used to have doors.

“The dungeons, do you think?” Camtan said as they walked through. “This place is too small to have more than one way down.”

They found the thin and rusted remains of bars across a series of indents into the corridor.

“Definitely the dungeons,” Loki agreed. “They look lovely and cramped, and I bet they’re freezing, even in summer.”

Camtan was still scanning the walls closely, but there was nothing of note. They reached the end of the corridor, which was a dead end, and turned to face one another.

“Ground floor?” Haewkyr suggested.

Loki noticed that Camtan continued to stare intently at the walls as they headed back.

“What are you looking for?” he muttered in Camtan’s ear, making him jump.

“Nothing! Just… signs of our ancestors, you know, proof,” he said.

Loki let him be, but he didn’t believe him, or rather, he didn’t believe that was *all* he was looking for.

The ground floor had the hall in it, along with a side area that used to be the kitchens, if the old stone sinks were any indication, and also contained rooms that they theorised had once been the servant’s bedrooms.

There was a narrow staircase leading from just behind the kitchen to the first floor.

“Servant’s corridor?” Loki guessed.

“Maybe, should we follow it or keep on our logical path?” Haewkyr asked.

“Logic,” Camtan said. “Come on, there’s more on this floor.”

There was. They found more empty rooms, but with bigger and more impressive-looking fireplaces in them.

“Workrooms?” Loki guessed. “I’d say bedrooms but they’re more likely to be up stairs aren’t they?”

“Who knows,” Camtan said. “At this point everything is speculation. *We’d* put our bedrooms upstairs, but maybe they had a good reason for not doing it.”

“It’s a workroom,” Daenceia said. “If the dust pattern on the floor is any indication.”

They all looked at the dust pattern. There was a rectangle the size of a desk, several shapes that could indicate storage around the edges of the room, and a disturbing shadow in the centre.

“Is that a person?” Haewkyr asked as Loki had a closer look.

“I think so,” Loki said. “Look, there’s his belt buckle.”

“Who leaves a corpse just lying around?” Haewkyr asked the air.

“Who knows what the unnamed terror was?” Camtan answered. “Maybe it was an attack and the survivors fled, unable to bury their loved ones.”

“Let’s move on upstairs,” Daenceia said. “Maybe they’ll be signs of battle, chips in the stone or something.”

They headed up the spiral stairs to the next floor. 

“Definitely a bedroom,” Loki said, eyeing the floor. “With someone in it, assuming that chain was around their neck.”

“Who conquers a castle and doesn’t loot it?” Camtan asked, confused.

“I hope Thor didn’t accidently rob a corpse for this ring,” Loki said, then his face changed. “Dorgen picked up the crown from where the throne used to be,” he said.

There was a moment of thoughtful silence.

“Ew,” Haewkyr said, summing up all their thoughts at once.

“Look! Over here! It’s a treasury!” Daenceia suddenly said. 

They hurried over, only to stop at the sight of a room filled with gold and gems.

“They did not die in battle,” Camtan whispered. “This would never have been left to lie like this.”

He carefully stepped into the room, intently scanning the piles where the jewellery had fallen as their display cases had disintegrated.

“If I knew what you were looking for I could help you find it,” Loki pointed out quietly as Haewkyr and Daenceia walked carefully along the other side of the room.

Camtan pulled a face. “I trust you Loks, but this isn’t my call,” he said, before moving on quickly.

Loki scanned the piles of jewellery anyway. Dorgen had gone quiet when he’d seen the hole in the crown, maybe Camtan was looking for a jewel that fit inside of it? An old legend?

What had the Emerald of the Last Seer looked like anyway? Had Thor popped it out of the crown? Camtan obviously didn’t think so or else he wouldn’t still be looking for it.

They finished their tour of the room without incident, pointing out multiple examples of finely worked jewellery for both men and women.

“There’re coins through here,” Haewkyr called out from the other side of a doorway. “Should I bring one out? Maybe Dorgen can date the castle with it?”

“All right, just one,” Camtan called. “Let’s move on though, it’s almost lunchtime.”

The rest of the castle was empty, bar a few belt buckles and lone pieces of jewellery to mark where someone had fallen. 

“It’s so sad,” Daenceia said. “I mean, who were these people and why were they left to lie where they fell?”

“If I had to guess I’d say an illness or a curse of some kind,” Loki said. “Camtan’s right, an invading army wouldn’t leave the gold just sitting there, this place collapsed from within.”

“We’ll leave it to the archaeologists to discover what they can one day,” Camtan said. “For now we must head back outside, I doubt that Dorgen will let us back in again.”

They reluctantly followed him down the stairs. Loki observed that Camtan was no longer scanning the walls as he walked. He appeared to have given up on whatever he was hoping to find… or he’d found it. But he gave no other sign, and they walked out into the daylight to see the camp already set up and the bulk of the rebels just beyond the gate cutting wood for the fires.

“Did you find anything?” Dorgen asked them as they entered the command tent.

“The treasury,” Camtan said. “Haewkyr brought out a coin, with my permission. We thought it could be used for dating purposes.”

Dorgen reached out for it with interest. Haewkyr handed him the coin and he examined it.

“That’s Njörðr’s symbol,” Dorgen said, before turning the coin over. “And here is our family standard again, at the base of the ruler who had this coin made. I think it says… Gullveig, Queen Gullveig.”

Beside Loki, Camtan tensed. The name clearly meant something to him, although Loki had never heard of her.

“Wasn’t that the name of some great sorceress?” Haewkyr asked. 

Daenceia looked utterly baffled. “I’ve never heard of her,” she said.

“You wouldn’t have,” Camtan said, not unkindly. “Gullveig is an old queen that nobles are taught about when studying the history of the realm, she’s supposed to be an old legend, commoners are only taught legends like hers if they choose to become historians.”

“So she was real?” Loki asked.

“Apparently,” Dorgen said. “But we can’t dwell on this now, the northern base fell last night while we were evacuating. We are losing people fast. We need to plan our next move.”

“Do we know if there were any survivers?” Haewkyr asked.

Dorgen shook his head. “Hieddenyr smashed the communication crystal to stop Fomalen tracking it, we have no idea whether anyone made it out.”

“With the southern base gone and the northern base destroyed, we’re in a lot of trouble,” Camtan said. “The western base has been trying to get past Fomalen’s ‘quarantine’ blockade to reach the army since this war started, but they’ve had no luck. Our raids are having less and less of an effect. We need a plan, a proper, big plan that’s going to take down Fomalen once and for all,” Camtan said.

There was a collective silence.

“We need to get into the palace,” Loki said at last. “Not one or two of us, but in numbers big enough to take down Fomalen’s guards.”

“He’s been building his army now for years, even if we take the palace we still have to find a way to stop them from taking it back,” Dorgen said. “We need *our* army.”

“If we could get a message through to them, using a portal, then maybe they could attack the western flank of the city,” Haewkyr mused. “That would draw the army in the capital out into a proper campaign, then, while they’re being defeated in the field, we can take the palace.”

“We have to be careful, with Fomalen tracking the runes,” Dorgen said.

“I’ll start researching ways to hide them effectively,” Loki said.

“In the meantime we have a forest to tame and hunting to do, we need food and a fresh water supply,” Dorgen said.

“I’ll ask the birds,” Haewkyr said, heading out of the tent.

“I’ll help Loki with his research,” Daenceia said.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Loki said. “There’s something I have to tell Dorgen.”

Dorgen looked at him in surprise as Camtan settled himself in to watch. “The good news is, brother, we may have solved the mystery of the snake-monster,” he said.

“And the bad news?” Dorgen asked, turning to face Loki.

Loki told him everything he suspected. He took off the ring and showed it to him, and again made the offer to give it back.

Dorgen examined it with a keen eye. “Thor gave you this?” he said at last.

“Yes,” Loki said.

“And you wear it on your wedding hand,” Dorgen stated.

“Oh, well, it fits there,” Loki said.

“I think you should keep it,” Dorgen said with a twinkle in his eye. “Although the next time you see Thor, give him a smack across his skull for looting.”

“Do you know what the words say?” Loki asked.

“It’s been too long since I studied the ancient runes I’m afraid,” Dorgen said, and Loki was almost certain that he was lying.

“All right,” Loki said cautiously, accepting the ring back and sipping it onto his finger. “Thank you. I’ll go and start studying.”

As he turned and left he heard Dorgen ask quietly. “Any sign?”

“Treasury, back wall,” Camtan’s voice sounded in Loki’s straining ears, before the tent flap swung back and the runes blocking sound came into effect.


	60. Fifty Nine Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A History Lesson and a New Idea

Loki spent the rest of the day trying to find a way to conceal runes from someone who was actively tracking them. He and Daenceia sat in the ‘library’ as the sounds of the camp went on around them. 

“Your mind is not on your work, Loks,” Daenceia said after about an hour.

“Dog and Cat are hiding something from us,” Loki said. “I want to know what it is.”

“If you knew what it was then it wouldn’t be hidden,” Daenceia said. “They’re royalty, royalty have secrets. I trust them; therefore I am content to let them *have* their secrets.”

“I’m not,” Loki said. “I’m nosy and interfering, and I want to know what Camtan was looking for in the castle. I mean, why would anyone want to preserve the stones for twenty five thousand years?”

“Twenty five thousand, four hundred and seventeen, actually,” Daenceia said. “Shiarpia and I did a test earlier because we both felt the age of the spell pushing at us but couldn’t agree on just how ancient it was, although your guess was closer than both of ours.”

“That’s a long time to preserve stone,” Loki said.

“Whatever the reason, it can’t be as important as finding out a way to hide our movements from Fomalen,” Daenceia said, a little sharply.

Loki ducked his head in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, you’re right, we’re so far out of the capital now that we *need* portals to operate, which means that this is the most important work I can do.”

“Exactly,” Daenceia said. 

Loki turned a few pages, trying to keep his mind on the spells in front of him.

“Besides,” Daenceia added, “they won’t go looking for it until it’s dark.”

Loki’s mouth twitched.

“You’re sure of this?” he asked.

“It’s hard to keep a secret in daylight,” Daenceia said. “They’ll do the work of the camp until nightfall and then sneak away to find whatever it is they’re looking for. Until then, try to put it out of your mind.”

Loki followed her advice and turned back to the page with renewed focus, and for the afternoon they spoke of nothing but the spells in front of them.

“”If only there were a way to open a portal without runes,” Daenceia said after a few fruitless hours.

“There is, it just kills you,” Loki said, “although I could probably open a small one quickly.”

“Loki! No!” Daenceia exclaimed.

“Just long enough for a small group to run through, three men? No more than that,” Loki continued.

“Dog will never allow you to. The last effort almost killed you.”

“I held the portal open for fifty people! Of course it almost killed me, and you too, I’ve not forgotten, but a small portal would be less damaging, and it may be all we have to rely on,” Loki argued.

“Fomalen can move a whole army through the shield without runes,” Daenceia said. “There has to be a way to counteract the effects, we’ll find it, and you’ll move us like lightning to everywhere in the realm.”

“Fomalen can move a whole army?” Loki asked with his eyes wide. “That’s not normal, that’s super-mage level of power.”

“Not exactly, you know how goods are transported?” Daenceia said.

Loki nodded. “They’re stamped with location runes so that you know where they are, and then you can open a portal to pull them through to your desired destination. It’s easier, power-wise, but rough on the goods, it’s only really used for raw materials,” he said.

“Fomalen uses it for his men,” Daenceia said. “Thainia got a chance to examine one of them once after a raid and she found the runes tattooed onto his skin. We think Fomalen mostly uses them to track whoever is loyal to him, but he can, and has, also used them to move men about quickly when he needs to. He can grab and move vast numbers of them rapidly, as long as he doesn’t mind that a few might not make it.”

“That’s diabolical,” Loki said, grinning, “and useful,” he added.

Daenceia frowned. “Useful? How?”

“Did Thainia make a record of what the runes said?” Loki asked.

“Yes, she wrote it down,” Daenceia said, realisation slowly coming over her features. “Do you think we can move Fomalen’s men around ourselves?”

“I still don’t know how to counteract the shield, but if we can hide the runes from Fomalen, then yes, I can use portals to transport his men all over the place,” Loki said. “We can move them out into the desert, or up onto the High Mountains – “

“We could tie Fomalen up with tracking and rescuing his men while we carry out raids,” Daenceia said. “Once he figures out what’s happening he’ll still have to choose between saving them or capturing us.”

“He’ll let them die,” Loki said. “He just seems the type to me, but even that will work in our favour, his men will lose loyalty for him if they know that their leader won’t try to save them. Not to mention the psychological damage of constantly worrying about whether it’s your turn to be randomly thrown to the other side of the realm.”

The bent their heads back to their books, trying to keep their excitement in check. It was more important than ever that they found a way to conceal the runes from Fomalen.

****

It was close to midnight when Camtan rose and left his tent. He glanced at the stars above his head and felt a smile come onto his face. It had been nice to spend the day in the sunshine after so long hiding in the dark, and now that they could have access to daylight, they could finally do away with Thainia’s vitamin infusions, which were hard to get at the best of times.

He crossed the courtyard and entered the castle, finding Dorgen standing in the great hall, as agreed.

“It’s this way,” Camtan said, and led his brother up the stairs to the treasury.

The moonlight bathed them through the window openings as they made their way along the corridors and to the treasury.

Dorgen stepped inside and looked around him in wonder.

“They just left this here,” he said softly as Camtan lit a low-light torch and shone it around the room.

“I’m guessing whatever they were running from did not wait for them to pack heavy loads,” Camtan said. 

He shone the torch at the back wall and let out a yelp.

Dorgen turned in alarm and stifled a gasp of his own.

Loki stepped forward from where he’d been silently leaning on the wall and gave them his best disapproving look.

“So,” he said. “What are you looking for?”

Dorgen folded his arms sternly, but Camtan sighed and laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“You might as well tell him,” Camtan said. “If we lose this war someone’ll have to get the other one out of the realm, Fomalen would be unstoppable if it were left in his hands.”

“What exactly are you talking about?” Loki asked suspiciously.

Dorgen sighed in defeat, apparently deciding that Loki was not a man you could keep a secret from.

“It involves the story of the Emerald of the First Seer,” he said.

Loki frowned. “I thought it was the Emerald of the *Last* Seer,” he said.

“Well, that would be because there’s more than one emerald,” Camtan said practically, setting the torch down so that it gave the room a soft glow. “And frankly we prefer the *Last* Seer’s legend to be the one people remember.”

“Indeed,” Dorgen said. “As you should know, Loki, emeralds are fantastic stones for mind magic, even tiny stones can be used to contain a great deal of spell-work. The First Seer was our direct ancestor, Queen Gullveig, and, according to the legends, she was able to foresee everything in the whole nine realms, like Asgard’s gatekeeper only in advance. She was the first to unite Vanaheim under a single rule; she repelled the Aesir invaders back when things were not so cordial between us. She opened portals to Midgard, Jotunheim and Mulspelheim. She was the head of the greatest kingdom the nine realms had ever seen. Vanahim used to protect the other realms the way Asgard does now, but that was so long ago that she has faded into legend. Historians from Vanaheim and Asgard even debate her existence.”

“But she was real?” Loki guessed.

“The historical legend only tells us that someone very powerful once created a gem that allowed them to see the future and anticipate what would happen next, as well as destroy the minds of their enemies from as far away as another realm. Family history, on the other hand, knows that that same gem is in the palace vault in the capital,” Dorgen said

“WHAT?!” Loki exclaimed. “You leave that thing just lying around!”

“As opposed to Asgard’s weapons vault?” Dorgen countered. “The combined power of what you hold in there is enough to destroy the nine realms, however, instead, I believe that you also choose to leave them ‘lying around’.”

Loki had the grace to look embarrassed.

“The story of the Emerald, as told to me by my father, is rather more involved than the official historical record,” Dorgen said. “To begin with there wasn’t one crystal, there were two, an emerald and a ruby.”

“Rubies are good for power,” Loki said, “I think I can see where this is going.”

“Two gems, one emerald and one ruby, made to work together. Rubies are generally passive in nature and used as storehouses for magic, and emeralds can be used to attack minds and destroy them, as well as foresee the future; however they can’t hold vast amounts of power for long. The ruby was designed to power the emerald by collecting and condensing background seidr, but because of its design it could also be used to do the opposite, and stop the emerald from working by sucking the power back out of it.”

“So these gemstones are in the palace as we speak?” Loki asked. “What’s stopping Fomelan from using them?”

Dorgen shook his head. “The story is not complete, Loki, have patience,” he said.

“Gullveig ruled wisely, but when her son inherited the throne he went mad with power. He was hell-bent on conquering the nine realms instead of co-existing with them. He began a campaign of destruction using the power of the emerald and recharging it nightly through the ruby, which he kept in a special vault that only opened for the true king, according to the bloodline and witness requirements Gullveig had placed on it.”

“Wait, is that why the birth of a new Vanir royal must be witnessed? Because of an ancient spell in a castle that you weren’t even sure still existed?” Loki asked. 

“One day,” Dorgen continued, ignoring the question, “he discovered that his eldest son, Traueen, did not have any seidr, and therefore could never be able to use the gems. Believing his son to be weak, he ordered a young warrior named Camtan to kill the boy. Camtan took him out into the forest and hid him away instead, raising him as his own son.”

“Your namesake I’m assuming?” Loki asked, turning to Camtan.

“So the legend goes,” Camtan said cheerfully.

“In time the King died and his second son, Slayen, was crowned as his successor. But when Slayen tried to get into the vault to recharge the emerald he was unable to do so. Realising that his brother must be alive, he sent men out across Vanaheim to find and kill him; all the while his ability to hold on to the nine realms was fading as the emerald began to lose power.”

“And so the kingdom fell into disrepair and ruin?” Loki guessed.

“Not quite,” Dorgen said. “Unable to locate the ‘true king’, Slayen began to power the emerald in another way: by using the life force of prisoners, especially mortals with their powerful seidr, to continue to attack and conquer the nine realms. When he ran out of prisoners, he started sacrificing anyone with seidr that he could get his hands on. He killed more and more people, until Camtan and Traueen, who had grown up into a warrior by then, realised that they had to do something. 

“They snuck into Slayen’s castle and killed him while he slept, while the army they raised waited outside for the signal to attack Slayen’s supporters the moment he was dead. Traueen was crowned the true king and ruled over the kingdom as it slowly grew smaller. The nine realms were once again isolated from each other, and many of them fell into savagery. Poor Midgard lost almost their entire population, leaving only a few thousand remaining to try and start again. No wonder it’s taken them so many generations.”

“I had no idea that they were once so advanced,” Loki said, “and yet, I’ve *read* about how they once commanded great seidr and were respected and almost feared. For some reason it never occurred to me how odd it was that they could be so powerful and so primitive at the same time.”

“Well now you know the truth, Vanahaim is responsible for their downfall, and now they live under Asgard’s protection, we’re happy to let that happen,” Dorgen said. “Now, Traueen could not use the emerald, but he wore it in his crown as a reminder of the dangers of power. He would secure it away at the end of the day, in a new vault, built using the original spell which was in Gullveig’s notes.

“Despite being the true king, Traueen never found the location of the original vault. He only had vague memories of being taken there as a child, and he couldn’t remember exactly where that was. He searched every inch of his castle, but came up with nothing. Our family lived in the old castle, here, for five more generations, before being forced to flee an unnamed terror.”

“I’m guessing an illness or something; why else would they leave all this gold just lying here?” Camtan said.

“They took the emerald, and when they settled in the High Mountains and built a new castle, they also built a new vault to keep it in,” Dorgen said. “Lord Fetatheren has always had a cellar that would not open for him or anyone else. I had a look down there when I visited for Kiatyr’s birth and it opened for me on the first try.”

“So is there another vault in the current palace?” Loki asked.

“Yes, and the emerald is in there and safe. If I die then only Lyrren can open the vault, and if he dies-“

“Occtir, then Camtan, then Roaseia and Kiatyr,” Loki finished.

“Then Horrseen, his two daughters, Woalfen and finally Fomalen,” Camtan finished. “In other words the emerald is safe, for now.”

“So you came here hoping to find the ruby?” Loki asked.

“It was a passing thought,” Dorgen said. “I have seidr, enough to make the gem work.”

“You want to destroy Fomalen’s mind and those of his men?” Loki asked, surprised at Dorgen’s line of thinking. He could be hard when he wanted to, but casual destruction was not his usual style.

“What? No! I want to use the ruby to suck the power out of Fomalen’s shield-crystals,” Dorgen said. “They’re on a network, so if we could set up a fortified base close enough to one of them then we should be able to drain the power slowly out of them all. We could then channel that power into our own portals, sparing you the near-death experiences.”

“That makes a lot more sense,” Loki said to himself. 

“It’s only a wishful dream anyway, the old vault was never discovered, I just thought that maybe we’d get lucky,” Dorgen said.

“Speaking of which, we came here to have a closer look at the back wall, it’s got old carvings on it, consistent with those at Lord Fetatheren’s.” Camtan said.

Loki stood back and watched as Dorgen approached. 

Dorgen placed both hands on the wall and pushed forwards. For a second the wall glowed with thousands of tiny runes that ran up and over his arms, before the wall itself vanished and left an opening to a small room.

“If we step forwards is it going to close?” Loki asked.

“Not now that I’ve opened it,” Dorgen said, stepping inside the tiny room. “Although there isn’t much room in here anyway.”

Loki stepped forward to have a look. It was less a room and more of an alcove.

“I’m pretty sure this was the second vault,” Dorgen said, stepping out again after only a few seconds. The wall immediately reappeared behind him. “It’s empty.”

“Damn, well, at least we know that now. We can look again tomorrow,” Camtan said.

“No. Look, Camtan, our ancestors lived in this place for five generations, the true rulers would have walked all these corridors and gone into every room. We’re not going to waste time on trying to find it, it was a long shot and it didn’t work. We need to focus on other ways to take down Fomalen,” Dorgen said.

Loki frowned, something Dorgen had said had intrigued him.

“*Five* generations?” he asked. “So, for about twelve to thirteen thousand years?”

“Yes?” Dorgen said.

“And it’s been about the same amount of time between the evacuation and today, another five generations or so, right?” Loki asked.

“Yes that’s right,” Dorgen said. “Why are you asking?”

“That means that it’s been thirteen thousand years, on the outside, since anyone last lived in this castle,” Loki said, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Yes,” Camtan said. “I’m starting to wonder when you’ll get to the point.”

Loki turned to face them with a look of superiority on his face. “The preservation spell has lasted over twenty five thousand years, I can feel it, all the mages can feel it. It is woven through the very air. According to your story, the only mage around that long ago would be Gullveig herself.”

“Meaning?” Dorgen asked.

“They didn’t preserve this place to come back to it, *she* preserved this place during her lifetime, the wood and furniture was allowed to move and age and change but the stone *wasn’t*,” Loki said, his eyes flashing with excitement.

“Loki, I appreciate the historical information but this is not going to help us,” Dorgen said.

“The stones were preserved by Gullveig, why? What shape is the castle? What shape are the walls? _They’re round,_ they’re shaped like a giant receiver! For the ruby to collect the seidr! But that’s not the best part!”

“What’s the best part?” Dorgen asked, still looking lost at sea.

“The best part is that if we can find the ruby, we don’t need to get close to a crystal to power down Fomalen’s shield. We can do it from here, all at once. This receiver is also a transmitter, and it’s big enough to cover the whole of Vanaheim,” Loki said. “We can send out a signal to start absorbing power across the whole realm.”

“We still need to find the ruby, and as I’ve just finished telling you, it’s lost. It may not even exist, the only evidence we’ve ever had is the family stories, maybe they always used the life-force of others and the ruby was propaganda, or maybe it did exist but has long since been stolen away, even before the evacuation,” Dorgen said.

Loki shook his head. “I disagree, I know you haven’t found it yet, but I know how to narrow down the search. You see, a standard preservation spell won’t last more than five thousand years without someone to recharge it, usually in the form of a complete recasting, _unless you have a power source._ The ruby has to be still here, how else could the spell last as long as it has?” Loki said triumphantly. “Gullveig cast the preservation spell so as to keep the receiver intact, her son kept up this practice when he ruled, and left the ruby in the one place it needed to be to absorb the power properly, _in the centre of the receiver._ If we find the centre point, we’ll find the ruby.”

“And if we find the ruby we can take down Fomalen’s shield,” Camtan finished, his eyes shining with excitement. “We can open portals to anywhere! _Without runes_.”

Dorgen looked at Loki with a stern gaze, although Loki could see the hope in his eyes. “Are you sure that the shape is correct?” Dorgen asked.

Loki nodded. “As much as anyone can be from the ground,” he said. “If I could get a bird’s eye view then I’d be certain.”

“Haewkyr,” Dorgen and Camtan said together.

“Loki I want you to draw what a receiver would look like from the air, I’ll ask Haewkyr to compare your drawing with the birds’ eye view in the morning,” Dorgen said. 

“If we can find the ruby then we can take Fomalen’s biggest advantage away from him in a single stroke.”

****  
Fomalen limped painfully out of Musleen’s room and waved to his brother to indicate that he could enter, before heading to his sitting room and lowering himself down in front of his desk.

There were reports there, Fomalen’s head was pounding, but two of them were marked as urgent. 

This was surprising, and disturbing. Because Fomelan demanded no interruptions when he was in his bedroom and beyond, anything that would normally be relayed to him in person was to be written down and marked as urgent. In the last forty three years he’d only gotten two of them, and now here were another two arriving at the same time.

He grabbed the first one and read it quickly, a smile coming to his face as he saw the information within. Construction in the western quarantine zone was almost complete. This was very good news.

He frowned as a thought occurred. He couldn’t constantly search for runes, which meant that Loki could still risk using them, and now that he was here and Dorgen was with him, they would probably try to contact the army.

Well now that wouldn’t do at all.

Fomalen rose, groaning a little as his bruises protested, and went to the cabinet at the side of the room. He’d had it moved here after taking over the palace, his masterpiece, his finest achievement, stronger even than the Bifrost, the shield control crystals.

Fomalen reached in and gently manipulated the crystals to strengthen the power over in the western region, from the quarantine zone out across where the Vanir army still waited for word that they could return. He kept going until it was so strong that even a rune-powered portal wouldn’t be able to get through. Granted, he had to sacrifice some power in the east, but it wasn’t for long, and he would search for the runes as often as he could.

In a few weeks the army wouldn’t matter anymore, neither would anyone else beyond the quarantine zone.

Fomalen limped back to the desk and picked up the second report. It was from Palinyr, the torturer. Fomalen ripped open the seal and began to read. He had been right about his choice of which rebels to torture, one of them had broken under the pain. Fomalen’s face went through a number of changes, first he looked gleeful, then puzzled, then, slowly, like a sinister glacier, his expression settled into pure rage.

That traitor.

That bloody traitor!

Fomalen had almost trusted him!

He limped to the door and headed through to where his guards were stationed.

“Arrest Smairken, _now,_ ” he hissed.

Sir Smairken was going to regret ever trying to cross paths with Fomalen. Who did he think he was?!

Fomalen limped back in to find that Woalfen had emerged.

“Still not dead?” he snapped.

“He’s still sleeping, are you well?” Woalfen asked.

“No, I’m not well, I’m far from well, I’ve been betrayed by someone I thought was loyal to my cause, instead, I’ll hang the bastard,” Fomalen spat. “Or maybe I’ll let Palinyr have fun with him instead. I’ve seen him work before; it should be of some comfort to me.”

“Who would dare?” Woalfen asked.

“Sir Smairken, one of the rebels gave him up. I’ve ordered his arrest at once,” Fomalen said. “If he *is* spying on me, from right here in the palace too, I will make him pay dearly, I will make him suffer, I will-“

“Make him tell you where he’s sending his information?” Woalfen suggested calmly.

Fomalen stopped mid-rant and turned to face his brother.

“I… should have thought of that,” he admitted.

“Well, you’re exhausted, and angry, that’s never been a good combination for logical thinking,” Woalfen said. “Let me order you something hot to eat, and then you can go and confront Smairken. He can stew in the cells for a little while, it’ll make him nervous.”

“Yes,” Fomalen said. “Good idea, maybe I’ll leave him for the night to lie on the cold stones and think about his fate.”

He sat down and waited as Woalfen ordered them both dinners and poured two glasses of wine.

“I received some good news to,” Fomalen said, accepting offered glass. “The wall is almost ready.”

“That’s excellent, brother, when will you test it?” Woalfen asked.

“In two weeks,” Fomalen said, smiling. “I know I am angry about the betrayal, but things have been going well recently, very well. It shouldn’t be too long now before I crush the last of the rebels and Vanaheim will be mine.”

Woalfen smiled. “You will be the greatest king Vanaheim has ever known,” he said.

Fomalen smiled and shook his head. “Brother, I don’t think you realise the depth of my ambition. I don’t want just Vanaheim; I plan to be the king of all the nine realms.”

Woalfen frowned in confusion. “But Asgard? It still holds the most powerful weapons in Yggdrasil.”

“Asgard puts too much stock in the Bifrost,” Fomalen said. “Smairken may be a traitor but the books he found for me told me what I needed to know.”

“You know how to destroy the Bifrost?” Woalfen asked.

“I know how to make them destroy their own Bifrost,” Fomalen said with a smile. “Psychology of the individual, brother, Prince Thor won’t let a realm be destroyed; he’ll smash the Bifrost first. All I need to do is force it to lock onto Vanaheim once the quarantine is lifted and he’ll do the work for me.”

“What if he doesn’t? What if Vanaheim is destroyed?” Woalfen asked, suddenly concerned.

Fomalen chuckled. “Brother, seriously, do you think I wouldn’t have a backup plan? After all I will be risking my life. The Bifrost will come down, and by the time they rebuild it I’ll have gained control of most of the nine realms with my portals. Thor will have to accept my superiority, although if he doesn’t I have a few surprises for him, and then I will move on to the final phase of my plan.”

“Killing Thor?”

“Oh yes, Loki will inherit the throne of Asgard, and I will rule by his side.”

“What if he refuses you?” Woalfen asked. “It’s a distinct possibility.”

“I am reasonably confident that he won’t, but if he does then I’ll have to go to the backup plan, you don’t mind abdicating your right to the Aesir throne do you, brother?”

“Not at all,” Woalfen said immediately. “I’ll already have all that I want: a life of utter luxury and Musleen on his knees with his mouth full. I long for nothing more.”

“Horrseen had better feel the same,” Fomalen said. “I’m not convinced that he abdicated to me willingly.”

“Horrseen is an academic, and you know where his daughters live, they weren’t a problem this time and they’ll hardly be a problem next time,” Woalfen said, waving a hand dismissively.

“You’re probably right,” Fomalen conceded. “In another fifty years I’ll be the total ruler of the nine realms.”

“To your reign,” Woalfen said, holding up his glass.

Fomalen smiled and drank his wine.


	61. Sixty Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Urgent Report

Loki, Dorgen and Camtan went back to the command tent. Loki pulled out a piece of paper and began to draw a sketch of a proper transmitter/receiver.

“You see, you need a large round edge with sloping walls on the inside, which is what we have here, and a central column to take the power and channel it into the source point, usually located at the exact centre of the receiver. Now, that can be a gem, a person, a crystal of some kind, it doesn’t matter, as long as the receiver is properly constructed then the power will flow evenly down to that point,” Loki said as he drew.

“Whereabouts *is* that point?” Camtan asked. “The castle keep is only two stories high, three if you count the cellars, although I admit that they have quite high ceilings.”

“I’d have to take some proper measurements,” Loki said. “It’s got to be accessed in a place that kings are unlikely to frequent, otherwise it would have been found a long time ago. If I had to guess based on what I’d seen I’d say somewhere on the ground floor, with three levels that’s the closest one to the centre.”

“In the Hall?” Camtan guessed. “I know the kings would have spent a lot of time there, but would they have walked down to the far end away from their raised throne?”

“That’s not a bad theory,” Dorgen said. “That whole entrance would have been designed for the lords to use; the king would have entered from his own private door at the side near the platform.”

“I thought the Hall was too far over,” Loki said. “But I’ll know for sure once I can measure.”

“It’s another six hours until the sun rises and the birds wake up,” Camtan said.

“We should try to get some sleep,” Dorgen said, sounding unconvincing.

Loki sighed. Why did everything always have to take so much *time*?

They tried to sleep, and six difficult hours later Loki woke Haewkyr by shaking his arm roughly.

“What? What is it?” Haewkyr asked, struggling upright and scanning the area for threats.

“We’ve had an idea, one that could help us cripple Fomalen’s biggest advantage,” Loki said. “But we need your brightest birds to prove me right.”

“That’ll be the ravens, there’re two of them in the trees right now, hold on,” Haewkyr said, holding out an arm.

A big, black bird flew down and landed on Haewkyr’s wrist. It examined Loki like it knew what he was thinking.

“Ravens are a little bit magical, and they’re very intelligent, they were thought to have originally come from Midgard, a very long time ago now,” Haewkyr said, smiling at the bird.

“I know,” Loki said, thinking of Odin’s ravens and how they would keep an eye on things for the King.

“What do you need her to do?” Haewkyr asked.

“I’ve made a drawing of a particular shape. I need her to fly up high and tell me if the castle and its walls match that shape,” Loki said, holding out his drawing.

Haewkyr turned to the raven and tilted his head to the side for a moment. The raven stared back at him, then turned its head and examined the drawing closely.

“Awk” it said and took to the air.

“She’ll be a few minutes,” Haewkyr said. “Why is the shape of the castle special?”

Loki told him while they waited for the raven to return. Haewkyr’s eyes lit up and he began to smile.

“Can you imagine what Fomalen will lose if we do this?” he said. “Can you imagine what we’ll gain? You’ll be able to open a portal without runes, which means that he won’t be able to track our movements, and there are other mages here, Taps is one of them, who used to be able to open a portal prior to the shield going up, I know she had to use runes but if we open several at the same time Fomalen will struggle to capture us all. Loki this is brilliant!”

“I still have to be proven right,” Loki pointed out. “And then we have to find the ruby without damaging the stonework.”

“We’ll do it,” Haewkyr said confidently.

There was an ‘awk’ from the air, and Haewkyr held his arm up obediently. The raven landed and examined the drawing again.

“Awk, Awk, Awk,” it said, almost conversationally.

“She says it matches exactly,” Haekwyr said with a grin. 

He appeared to listen again, although the raven didn’t caw, and then added: “She said there was a black spot on top of the wall, near the courtyard. It looked like possible damage so she flew down to have a look. It was ash from a fire, but she said the stone felt fine under her feet.”

“That’s perfect, thank you,” Loki said to the raven, who ‘awked’ again and took off. “We need to tell Dog at once,” he said to Haewkyr.

They headed for the command tent, spotting Camtan sitting outside and looking sleepy. He blinked hard when he saw them and turned to Loki with interest.

“We’ve just done it,” Loki said. “That is, one of the ravens has just done it for us. The castle is a receiver, I’ll start taking measurements this morning.”

“Brilliant,” Camtan said. “Dog’s just getting a report from the west; Steel is in there too, it’s been a long time since they spoke to their son so I’m giving them a few minutes. But I should tell you now that your mother has made it to their camp. Noilasti sent some men out to find them when they got close and bring them in.”

Loki felt something inside of him relax. His worry for his mother had caused him broken sleep over the past few days, and it was a relief to know that she was safe in the western base.

“Do you need any help for the measuring?” Camtan asked. 

Loki opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted.

“Loks, Cat, Hummingbird, get in here, you need to hear this,” Dorgen voice came from within as he pulled aside the flap. “And can you send someone to fetch Taps and Needle?”

Camtan grabbed a passing rebel and asked her to find the two women as Loki and Haewkyr headed inside.

“What’s happening?” Loki asked.

“Is that my baby?” came Frigga’s voice through the amulet. 

Loki covered his face with his hands and tried not to make eye contact with the others. “Hello Mother, I’m glad you’re all right,” he said.

“For now,” Frigga said, her voice hardening.

“What is it? What’s happened?” Loki asked.

Daenceia and Shiarpia came through the tent flap, causing some shuffling as everyone tried to fit comfortably.

“Go ahead, Vision, everyone is here now,” Dorgen said.

“As you know, the western edge of Fomalen’s kingdom stretches as far as the plains, then there is a wide band of land designated as the quarantine zone, which neither side is allowed to enter, before the ‘clean’ zone where the army and the rest of the Vanir population are located,” Frigga said. “Fomalen has been building a wall inside the quarantine zone. It’s huge, taller than a building and long enough to cut through several Lords’ lands. But that isn’t all. I had a look at the sketches the rebels here have made for the first time last night and I recognise the pattern. Loks? Do you remember studying the walls of Asgard as a part of your seidr growing up?”

“Yes,” Loki said. “There not just for defence, in fact in times of siege they can…”

He trailed off, looking concerned.

“Fomalen is building them to the same design,” Frigga said. “There’s seidr all through it along the length. It’s designed to generate power and funnel it to the centre point, which can be aimed and will fire the power as a giant energy weapon, and right now it’s aimed right at the largest city outside the quarantine zone. Most of the army is believed to be stationed there while they wait out the plague; over half a million people are going to be incinerated if they complete construction.”

“We have to warn them,” Loki said.

“How?” Camtan asked. “We’ve been trying to get a hold of them since the war started; they still think we’re in the grip of a plague.”

“We have to risk transporting someone over there with a portal,” Loki said. 

“We still haven’t found a way to hide the runes,” Daenceia said. “If we draw them out then Fomalen will show up right here, and we have nowhere else to go.”

“We’ve tried to sneak people through the quarantine zone for years,” came Lyrren’s voice over the amulet. “They were all shot on sight, and Fomalen has half an army out there, there doesn’t appear to be a way through.”

“I tried sending the rabbits, but they couldn’t get past the plains, it was too hot and too far,” Haewkyr said, frowning in thought.

“Maybe I can risk a portal without runes,” Loki suggested. Daenceia shook her head but he ignored her and continued, “Not for very long, just long enough to send someone through quickly.”

“I’m afraid that won’t work,” Frigga said. “The shield here is far stronger than it was in the south, but it wasn’t until just this past day or so. I felt the increase build up around me. I think Fomalen’s blocking you on purpose, now that he knows that portals are an option.”

“You don’t think I’ll get through?” Loki asked.

“Not past the quarantine zone, not unless you risk using runes to assist you,” Frigga said. “Trust me, Loks, it’s as thick as treacle and interferes even when I try to use other seidr, he’s throwing everything he has at it.”

“What about here?” Daenceia said suddenly. “If he’s pushing power over there has it lessened here? Or am I hoping for too much?”

Loki, Daenceia and Shiarpia all tilted their heads to the side as they checked the magic in the atmosphere around them.

“I’d swear it was less,” Shiarpia said after a minute. Loki was already nodding. 

“It’s not gone, but it’s definitely less restricting. I may not have to strain quite as much to portal us in and out of the capital,” he said.

“But that doesn’t help us with our current problem,” Shiarpia said. “We need to blow up that wall, warning the army, or somehow do both at once.”

“We’ve been trying to attack the wall but it’s guarded day and night, and not with patrols either, a line of guards stand within eye line of three others at *all* times. We’ve got the detonators, but we just can’t get in there,” Lyrren said. “At one point we even thought about stealing a flyer and bombing it from the air, but the flyers are rare and equally well guarded.”

“I have attempted to get some of our men on the work-gangs,” came a new voice, General Hogun. “That is how we got sketches of the wall, as they could do those from memory, but they are searched going in and out. Any detonators would be found immediately.”

“They’re not afraid of shooting men either,” Lyrren said. “Even if they suspect that something is up, they don’t need proof this far out.”

Loki frowned in thought. He knew that they couldn’t send the birds, any bird carrying a note or with a scroll-holder on its leg would be shot down immediately. What they needed was something intelligent enough to find the city, able to conceal a message on a scroll, and was too common to be shot.

“Men have no value out here,” Hogun said, agreeing with Lyrren.

Perhaps common was the wrong angle, what was too *valuable* to risk being shot? Something fast enough not to be caught, but still wouldn’t be shot for making it past the wall.

“Lightning,” Loki said.

“What?” Haewkyr asked as the others all looked at Loki in confusion.

“Send Lightning past the wall,” Loki said. “I can portal him to the edge, possibly even without runes if the shield has weakened enough on this side, and he can run to the city carrying a warning.”

“Lightning is fast, Loks, I don’t dispute it, but even he can’t outrun the energy weapons; anyone riding him will still be shot,” Haewkyr said.

Loki shook his head. “I don’t mean to send someone out on him, I mean to send *him*. What do you do with a riderless horse?”

“I whistle and they come running,” Haewkyr said before holding up his hands. “But I know what you mean,” he added. “Trained horses are valuable, you don’t shoot them, you go after them, which they will almost certainly do.”

“Which means they’ll find the message,” Lyrren said.

“No,” Loki argued. “Not with Lightning they won’t, Hummingbird, you *know* he’s the fastest horse in Vanaheim, he was *built* to run over the plains. The only thing faster than Lightning over flat ground is a flyer, and they won’t use one of those because-“

“Flyers are too small to hold horses,” Haewkyr finished for him. “There’s no point using them because they can’t bring him back anyway, besides, by the time they got it into the air he’d be well away.”

“We can hide the message in his bit, no one will see it unless they holster him, which is exactly what will happen when he reaches the city,” Loki said.

“Are you certain?” Dorgen asked. “Loki, are you _certain_.”

“Yes,” Loki said. “I _know_ Lightning can do it. If Hummingbird and I portal to the castle, he can explain what we need, I know Lightning won’t refuse us.”

“He could refuse?” came Hogun’s voice from the amulet.

“He’s his own horse,” Haewkyr said. “But Loks is right; he’s a horse with honour. If we can get him to you, and you can get him as close to the wall as you can, Lightning will run to the city. He’ll bring the army home.”

****

Smairken was furious. He was cold, hungry, and, all right, a little afraid, but mostly he was furious. 

All his hard work, all his spying and careful words and actions, and what had happened? He’d been betrayed by someone who should have died for the cause! 

As, apparently, he was now going to.

He hoped that he would hold up to the torture, otherwise he’d die a hypocrite, and the thought of that made him disgusted with himself.

Palinyr had made a big show of cleaning the chair in his chamber for ‘the lord’. Smairken had ignored him all morning, as he often did to those who were beneath his notice. 

He hoped that Palinyr had not seen his hands tremble earlier, that would be embarrassing.

He hoped that his father remembered him fondly, certainly more so than their last conversation would indicate.

He was going to die, painfully.

Shit.

The door to the cells opened and Fomalen tried to saunter in. The effect was ruined by a rather prominent limp, which Smairken eyed with interest.

“So, Sir Smairken, it appears that you have betrayed me,” Fomalen said, stopping outside his cell.

“Nope,” Smairken said flatly.

Fomalen raised an eyebrow. “Your name was given up by a rebel; apparently you have been passing on information to them for years.”

“I didn’t betray you,” Smairken said.

“How do you explain the rebel?” Fomalen asked in an infuriatingly calm voice.

“I don’t,” Smairken said. “Rebels will say anything under torture, you know that.”

“Do I?” Fomalen said.

“I would have thought so, unless you’re not as clever as I thought,” Smairken snapped back.

Fomalen’s eyes narrowed. “You will tell me everything you know about the rebels and their movements,” he said, “one way, or another.”

“I know the one way,” Smairken said, casually jerking his head in the direction of the torture chamber. “What’s the other? Dinner and some dancing? Gentle massage and a hot bath? Come now, your Majesty, I’ve never betrayed you, you must be testing me, yes?”

Fomalen actually looked slightly perturbed, but he rallied, and in that moment Smairken knew he wasn’t talking his way out of this. He was never going to see his home again.

“I can’t risk it,” Fomalen said. “And at the end of the day you’re just another noble, there’s lots of them around.”

Smairken allowed a look of incredulousness onto his face. “You’re going to have me tortured and killed on nothing more than the word of a desperate man? To be *safe*?”

“Yes. I’m sorry to see you go but I must be cautious, and if you do turn out to have betrayed me then at least I’ll know,” Fomalen said. He turned and knocked on the torturer’s door. “Palinyr? You may begin when you’re ready,” he said.

“I *never* betrayed you,” Smairken said. If he was going to die anyway then he’d be damned if he didn’t get his last jab in. “You can’t betray something you were never loyal to, you limping piece of shit.”

Fomalen’s face turned ugly. “I’m going to crush all you filthy rebels,” he hissed though the bars.

“With what? Your enormous stomach?” Smairken taunted.

Fomalen gave a short laugh at that, which Smairken found unnerving, but he proceeded regardless. “How’d you get your limp anyway? Rebel attack? Or did you trip over your own robe and fall hard on your arse?”

Fomalen’s smile dropped. “You’ll make such wonderful screams,” he said. “And after Palinyr’s done, I’ll hang what’s left of you, *if* you make it that far.”

“It must bother you, though, to know that I fooled you? You had no idea; you had to find out about me from a rebel under torture! Well, that’s because you are the stupidest, slowest, dim-witted, most pathetic excuse for a king I’ve ever seen, and having lived through three of them now, I can confidently say that next to you, _fucking Dimcken_ was a genius!”

Fomalen stormed back along the corridor and out of the cells, or at least he tried to, the limp made it look almost comical.

Smairken leaned back, please that he’d had his say, before Palinyr suddenly filled his vision and he stopped feeling so clever after all.

“This way… your Lordship,” Palinyr sneered.

“I’m a Sir, you knucklehead,” Smairken said with as much dignity as he could muster as he was dragged out of the cell and into the chamber beyond.

The door slammed closed behind him with a horrible finality.


	62. Sixty One Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Daring Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'll be the first to admit that I know nothing about horses, so please forgive me as I took liberties with how they concealed the message and how easy it was to do.
> 
> Also, as Good Friday and Easter are now here, I will not be updating again until next week, probably Tuesday. So everyone have a happy Easter, or if you don't celebrate it, have a happy next-four-days.

Things moved quickly after they had decided what to do. The army had to attack the wall before it was completed, or at the very least they had to evacuate the city. Dorgen wrote a letter, addressed to the head of the army, General Mieghtyr, with an explanation of what was happening and firm instructions on what to do. He signed it, then Camtan signed it as a witness to its authenticity, then Mulmyr, Burtchen and Haewkyr all did the same, each one referencing someone they knew who could verify their signatures for the General. Finally Dorgen took it to Loki, who was pacing nervously in the courtyard of the castle. 

“Are you sure you want to try this without runes?” Dorgen asked. 

“We can’t afford to wait,” Loki said. “Not if the wall is as close to completion as mother reported.”

He took the note, which Dorgen had rolled up tightly, and held out his hand as Haewkyr came to stand beside him.

“Ready?” he asked Haewkyr.

“Ready,” Heawkyr confirmed.

Loki concentrated, grunting with effort as the portal opened and he felt the pressure build in his head.

“Go!” he yelled, running for the portal.

Haewkyr kept pace with him and they ran through together, appearing in the bedroom where Loki had slept the last time he’d stayed with his grandfather.

Loki moaned and shook his head hard to clear the ache behind his eyes. 

“Definitey less,” he said, waving Haewkyr off. “I’m not going to faint,” he said.

“As long as you’re sure,” Haewkyr said. “Let’s find Grandfather.”

They headed down the stairs and to the workroom, where Lord Fallconyr was most likely to be found. Loki knocked on the door and they waited impatiently for it to open. When it did, it was opened by Haewkyr’s sister, Joeyia, who gave a shriek of excitement at the sight of him and threw herself around his neck.

“Hey baby sister, how have you been?” Haewkyr said with a grin.

“Who is that?” Lord Fallconyr called from within. Loki stepped inside and gave him a wave, only to dart forward quickly and catch the bowl Lord Fallconyr dropped in his surprise.

“Hello Grandfather,” Loki said with a smile.

“You, here, Loki, here, Loki,” babbled Lord Fallconyr before giving up on speech and pulling Loki into a tight hug. “What are you doing here?” he managed when he let go.

“I’m here to fight for Vanaheim,” Loki said firmly, “as it is my home.”

“We’ve come for Lightning,” Haewkyr said. “Loki sent him back ten years ago, please tell me he’s still healthy and well?”

“Of course he is,” Lord Fallconyr said at once. “Do you think I’d mistreat a horse? Your brother has been exercising him regularly and at this time of the day he should be in the stables.”

“We need him for a mission of urgent importance,” Loki said. “We were careful coming down here in case the castle is being watched, do we need to sneak into the stables?”

“There’re a few people I don’t trust hanging around,” Lord Fallconyr said. “But I try to keep them busy all day escorting our tea deliveries. They think we’re passing messages to the resistance, but we’re not, at least, not that way. There may be a few about though so let me make some arrangements that will get you access to Lightning unnoticed.”

“We need a bit that can be made hollow, to hold a scroll,” Loki said, “and we need it as soon as possible.”

“Stay in the Properties room,” Lord Fallconyr said. “I’ll arrange what you need and send someone to fetch you when it’s time.”

He left quickly, the tapping of his cane echoing down the corridor as he walked away. Joeyia shut the door behind them.

“Do you need anything?” she asked. “Food? Blankets? Anything at all?”

“Medicines,” Haewkyr said. “Our healers are good but they’re running low on practically everything.”

“Well you’ve come to the right place,” Joeyia said with a smile. “Tell me what you need and I’ll gather it.”

They spent an hour gathering various salves and ointments from the properties room, as well as gathering herbs and fresh bandages.

“I wish you didn’t need all this stuff,” Joeyia said, looking worried. “You will keep yourself safe, won’t you?”

“Of course, sister, I promise,” Haewkyr said, giving her a quick grin. 

“Is that a real promise? Or a Haewkyr promise?” she asked. “Because there was that time you promised you’d be safe in the army and you came home all quiet and withdrawn, and there was that time you promised that you’d take care climbing the big tree and you fell and almost died, and then there was the time you went caving and promised you’d be back by nightfall but you weren’t and Cleawyr had to find you, and you were at the bottom of a crevasse with a broken leg, and then-“

“Hey,” Haewkyr said gently, pulling her into a hug. “Calm down, baby sister, it’s all right, I’m right here.”

Joeyia swallowed hard and looked away to hide her tears. “I want our King back on his throne,” she said. “But I want you to be safe. Just promise me, a proper promise, that you will *try*.”

“I’m a reckless, crazy, man with total disregard for my own safety, but I promise you that I am doing all I can to stay safe,” Haewkyr said, looking her straight in the eye. 

Joeyia nodded, but didn’t say anything more.

There were footsteps in the corridor outside. Both Haewkyr and Loki stood back out of immediate sight. The door opened and Lord Eadgleyr walked in, carrying a basket of food. He saw them both and held out his arms. “My babies,” he said and they stepped forward for a hug.

“Grandmother,” Loki said, hugging him tightly. “You look tired.”

“Is it little wonder with you two running around fighting such an evil man? Half my family is ‘missing’ right now and I have no idea whether any of you are alive or dead,” he said, giving them both a stern look. “You could have tried to write,” he added.

“No we couldn’t! Secrecy is paramount! And… you’re teasing us now, aren’t you?” Haewkyr said.

There was a twinkle in Lord Eadgleyr’s eyes. “Maybe about that last part, but I do worry about you all so much,” he said. “Your Grandfather asked me to tell you that all was ready in the stables. If you can cloak your movements, I suggest you follow me down there.”

Loki grabbed Haewkyr’s arm and they both shimmered out of sight. Lord Eadgleyr picked up the basket again and walked down to the stables. He walked up to Lord Fallconyr, who was speaking to one of the holsters, and held out the basket.

“I went to bring you lunch and was told that you’d come down here,” he said calmly as Loki and Haewkyr snuck around to the waiting area where Lightning was with three other saddled horses. Haewkyr put his hands on either side of Lightning’s head and silently began communicating what they needed. Lightning went still, then tossed his head lightly. Haewkyr grinned and turned to his left, where he could still feel Loki’s hand on his shirt.

“He’ll do it,” he breathed softly.

“I came down to ask about getting some of the horses ready to ride out this afternoon to collect the pel-flowers, now that they are in bloom,” Lord Fallconyr said. “We’ll take four people altogether, unless you would like to join me?”

“I’d love to,” Lord Eadgleyr said. 

The holster immediately turned away to prepare another horse.

“Let’s have lunch first though,” Lord Fallconyr said, “in the garden outside would be lovely.”

They walked away arm in arm, leaving Loki and Haewkyr in the stables with Lightning and the other horses. The holster was in the back on the stables. 

“When?” Haewkyr whispered.

“Will he leave for lunch?” Loki whispered in reply.

“After this horse he should,” Haewkyr said.

“Then we’ll wait until then, saddle another horse so that they have the right amount waiting for them and don’t immediately miss Lightning, then we’ll go,” Loki whispered as the man reappeared, leading a new horse to the front of the stables. 

They watched as he saddled it up and put it in the waiting yard with the others. 

As soon as he left the stables, Haewkyr slipped over to another horse, one that was the same colour as Lightning, and began to saddle it. He also grabbed a different set of reins from the rack, before coming back over to where Loki waited in the shadows.

“Let’s go,” he said. “Are you sure you’re up to it?”

“Yes,” Loki said. “I’ve got a headache, but it’s minor, and I can recover at the western base.”

Haewkyr mounted Lightning and Loki jumped up behind him. 

“Ready?” Loki asked.

Haewkyr nodded. Loki dug into his shirt and pulled out Camtan’s communication amulet, which was connected to Frigga’s and Lyrren’s by a magical link, held out his hand and concentrated on finding them. Once again the pressure built, making him gasp, but the portal opened in front of them.

“Ride!” Loki said urgently. 

Haewkyr spurred Lightning onwards and they rode through the portal into the dark beyond.

****

Haewkyr pulled Lightning up the second they were on the other side of the portal, which was a good thing, as they appeared to be in a room of some kind. Loki groaned from behind him.

“Are you all right?” Haewkyr asked, turning in the saddle as someone on the ground lit a lantern and came forwards.

“No he’s not all right, he’s pushed himself,” Frigga said, looking half concerned and half stern in the way only a mother can.

“I’m fine,” Loki said, sounding anything but. “I just need some time to recover, the shield is stronger on this end and it was trying to crush my skull.”

“No more of that,” Frigga said. “Come down now and I’ll take care of you.”

Loki slipped from Lightning’s back as more shadows came forwards and turned into people.

“The doorway is wide enough for a horse,” said General Hogun. “It leads up to the ground floor and from there into the street.”

“Good,” Haewkyr said, swinging himself down. “Lightning has agreed to make a run for the city. We just have to bore a hole in this bit and insert the scroll from King Dorgen.”

“Very well,” Hogun said, holding his hand out for the bit. “What is wrong with the one he has now?”

“It’s narrower, I thought it would be easier to bore into this one,” Haewkyr said.

“Good, I will take care of it now,” Hogun said.

They were led upstairs and into the little room above, which connected via a series of tunnels to other rooms on the same level.

“This base was fashioned in order to keep an eye on the wall,” Hogun said. “Noilasti is waiting nearby, I will send someone to fetch him.”

He found a drill-bit and began to bore out the centre of the bit. Frigga helped Loki to sit down in a corner and began to assess him carefully.

“You need rest, and lots of it,” she said, making him drink a draught out of a bottle. “No seidr, not even a tiny bit, until it is time to leave.”

“You’ll get no argument from me,” Loki groaned.

“Loks, can I have the amulet? I want to tell Dog and Cat that we’ve made it safely,” Haewkyr said.

Loki dug it out of his pocket and handed it over. Haewkyr held on to it and stepped away to report their safe arrival. Loki could dimly hear his voice through the pounding in his head.

Hogun finished drilling out the bit and inspected the hole. “Will this do?” he asked Haewkyr, who wrapped up his conversation and reached for the bit.

“Should do,” Haewkyr said. He inserted the scroll to check. “Yep, perfect,” he added.

There was movement at the door and Lyrren appeared. He had also changed since Loki had last laid eyes on him. He looked older, his face had thinned and his features had settled. He looked over everyone in the room before moving to where Haewkyr stood by Lightning. 

“So this our desperate gamble,” he said. “He looks like he could run at a good speed.”

“He’s faster than any horse I’ve ever seen,” Haewkyr said. “I think he might have a bit of northern-plain wanderer in him, although they cannot be tamed so it must have been a bit of unplanned breeding.”

“As long as he outruns the men going after him,” Lyrren said.

“He will,” Loki said form the corner, trying to focus on the Prince before him. “He’ll outrun them all.”

“Where’s the scroll?” Lyrren asked. “We need to sign it and seal it up in the bit.”

“Here,” Haewkyr said, handing over the scroll. 

Lyrren read it and nodded. “It’s good,” he said. 

He pulled out a pen and signed the back next to all the others. Hogun did the same, as did the other major player in the room, Lord Kinndyr.

Loki watched him closely as he moved about the room. The last time they had been this close, Lord Kinndyr had been dressed in soft silks and delicate embroidered robes. Now he wore armour, and Loki could see where Ladughen had gotten his warrior nature from. Lord Kinndyr looked like an old battle-axe, tough as nails and hard to beat.

“I’ve not received word of my son in a while,” he said to Haewkyr after he signed. “Do you know if he is well?” 

“His last report came in the day before yesterday,” Haewkyr said. “He’s a snarky one, that man, and he’s due to send another by tonight but I won’t be back there to hear it yet. I’ll let you know whether he’s well as soon as I hear.”

Lord Kinndyr nodded, relieved for the moment. He made his way over to where Loki sat.

“My Lady, do you have everything you need?” he asked.

“I believe so, yes, thank you my Lord,” Frigga said, shooting him a smile.

Loki looked back and forth between them, and as Lord Kinndyr walked away he turned and pointed wordlessly at his mother.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Frigga said, starting to blush.

“Mother!” Loki said, pretending to be scandalised. “Mo _ther!_ ”

“There’s nothing wrong with it, we’re both unattached,” Frigga said, blushing furiously by now.

“How long have you two been making eyes at each other?” Loki asked, still acting out mock outrage.

Frigga looked away. “About mmmmm mmmm,” she mumbled.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Loki asked.

“About three days,” Frigga said, a little louder.

“Mother! For shame!” Loki said, trying not to laugh.

“Stop teasing your mother,” Frigga said, also starting to giggle. “He’s a very nice man and there’s not much to do in the camp-“

“Mother! I do not need to hear of your scandalous actuivities!” Loki said, holding his hands to his ears.

“So we got to _talking_ , rather a lot actually. He’s about my age, and very intelligent. He’s got three sons, I’ve got two, and all of them appear to be troublemakers in different ways,” Frigga said, giving Loki a look. “Who knows what will happen in this war? But I do not believe in waiting to find out.”

Loki grinned at her, despite the pounding in his head. “If he makes you happy, Mother, then I think it’s wonderful that you are, uh, getting along.” 

“Good, because I don’t need your approval, but I’d still like to have it,” Frigga said. “Apparently his middle son, Ladughen, is back at the main base, three days ride from here. He is quite the fighter, or so I’ve heard, and his youngest, Smairken, is at the palace. Haewkyr has been receiving his communications regularly.”

“Right,” Loki said, without much enthusiasm. His experience with the sons of Lord Kinndyr had not been all that pleasant, although their father had been nothing but kind to him. 

“Loki,” Frigga said warningly.

“I’ll be nice to them!” Loki said, holding up his hands. “At some point, when we meet again.”

“How’s your head?” Frigga asked.

“Better, that draught you gave me is wonderful,” Loki said.

“Good, because it’s time to release Lightning,” Frigga said.

“Now?” Loki questioned as she helped him up.

“It is sunset here, the best time as the guards are tired and Lightning is fresh, it’s only lunchtime on the eastern side of the realm so he should have a good few hours of travel in him before he gets fatigued. If he gets away now they’ll be searching for him in the dark on tired horses,” Frigga said.

“Good plan,” Loki said, walking gingerly forwards until he could pat Lighting’s flank. “You ready, Lightning?” he asked.

Lightning whinnied and stamped his foot in response.

“Good,” Loki said and watched as Haewkyr inserted the scroll inside the bit and sealed it with a plug of wax.

Haewkyr fitted the new bridle and led Lightning to the door.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Follow me,” Hogun said, slipping out of the door.

The group made its way carefully through the streets of the small town and out to the edge.

“The guards come back here for their beer and respite,” Lyrren said. “But they come on regulated shifts, so we can track them easily. They normally stay out near the wall, which you can see on the horizon.”

Loki could make out the wall in the fading light. It looked ominous to his suspicious eyes.

“Where’s the gate?” Haewkyr asked.

“Straight down the road, if Lightning follows it he’ll find it without any trouble,” Lyrren said.

Haewkyr turned to look at Lightning properly, for a moment there was just silence, then Lightning tossed his head.

“He’s ready,” Haewkyr said, letting him go.

Lightning cantered away without looking back. Loki and the others stood and watched him grow smaller and smaller as he ran away into the distance.

“How will we know if it works?” Lyrren asked.

Haewkyr grinned, “We’ll find out from General Mieghtyr himself,” he said.

“How?” Lyrren asked.

“Well, it’s only a guess, but I reckon he’ll probably use Cat’s amulet, which I stuck to the inside of the putty sealing the scroll in,” Haewkyr said.

Everyone stared at him as he turned and winked at Loki.

“You’re not the only one who can have good ideas you know,” he teased.

****

The guards at the gate were leaning on their spears. It was the end of the day and they were tired and anxious to be relieved. Weary as they felt, it took them a minute to spot the horse trotting almost jauntily up the road.

“Messenger?” The first guard asked, eyes squinting to try and make out the rider he was sure must be on top.

“I don’t think so, not unless he’s fallen off,” said the second guard. He waved to get the attention of the guards above the gate. “Hey! We’ve got a stray horse down here!” he yelled.

They waved back to acknowledge him.

“Proceed with caution!” one of them yelled.

The second guard cursed under his breath as the first one chuckled. “You didn’t honestly think that would go any differently, did you?” he asked. “They’re not coming down here for a horse.”

“Fine,” the second guard snapped. “I’ll search it, but if it’s just gotten loose from the stables I’m riding it back there and not returning.”

The first guard straightened at his words. “I’ll search it if you like,” he said. “It’s not really that much of a burden.”

“Like Hel, you just want the ride back,” the second guard said as he stepped onto the road and into the horse’s path.

The horse was a magnificent animal, large and strong, with a proud bearing. It slowed to a halt and looked them both over as though it was judging them. Then, with a haughty toss of its head, it tried to go around them.

“Oy!” The second guard yelled, throwing his arms out. “Come on, don’t be difficult.”

The horses snorted in frustration and backed away from them, swinging its head from side to side. It tried to go around again, only to be stopped by the first guard moving into its path.

“He really wants to run,” said the second guard. “Don’t worry, darling, I’ll give you a fast ride back to the stable, you’ll like that, won’t you?”

Apparently this was not an acceptable offer, because the horse reared up suddenly and kicked its front legs, making them both back up hastily.

“What’re you doing down there?” yelled an unwelcome voice from above. “Don’t spook the damn thing!”

“We’re not spooking it!” the first guard yelled back, turning his head to do so.

The horse took advantage of his lapse in attention to make a run at him. The second guard yelped and threw himself out of the way. The first guard turned back, saw the horse fast approaching and only had time to squeak in fear before it was sailing over the top of his head. Then it was on the other side and running for the gate, which was open to allow the workers passage in and out while the wall was being built. It raced through and bolted down the path like a spirit in the wind.

For a moment everyone on the wall just watched it go, such was the power of the animal, but then one of them came to his senses and cried out, “It’s loose and heading down the road! We’ve got to get it back!” 

There was a mad scramble as they ran for the stables to grab some more horses. Horses were too valuable to lose out here, and in the mad rush no one noticed that all the stalls in the stable had been occupied.

****

Lighting ran on, galloping swiftly over the plains, feeling the ground hard beneath his feet and the wind flowing past his flanks. This was happiness, this was joy. Lightning was complicated for a horse, possessing perhaps rather more intelligence than most horses, and while he would never understand such concepts as kings and traitors and empires, he did understand loyalty. The man with the horse-voice had healed him, the man who felt like cold fire had ridden him to places that seemed impossible, and yet were there. He had never been cruel or mean; he had never beaten Lightning or caused him to hurt. Therefore, in Lightning’s brain, they were of the herd.

And you were loyal to your herd.

They needed him to find the man who looked like *this*, which was what Lightning called the image that horse-voice had made Lightning see in his head, and when he got there he had to make sure that *this* saw the thing he held in his mouth, all of the thing, not just the outside.

He ran on, pushing himself faster purely for the enjoyment it brought. Heading ever onwards to the place at the end of the road where *this* could be found.

It was a long run, and twice Lightning had to stop and drink water from away from the road, but he never lost it, and would return to follow it as soon as he was able. He saw no one for many miles, and when the light came back he saw in the distance the faint sight of the place of *this*. He walked now, tired from his night of running, but with his determination still strong. He would find *this* and make sure he saw the whole of the thing. 

For the herd.

****

Captain Barzzayr, friend and former comrade-in-arms of Haewkyr, was supervising the morning’s training exercises when an exhausted horse casually walked through the open gate of the city. It stopped in the exact middle of the yard and, he would swear, examined each of his men in turn before slowly walking out again.

“Who lost a horse last night?” one of his men asked.

“No one in here, they’d have reported losing that magnificent beauty,” Barzzayr said, following the horse as it walked slowly towards the barracks.

“I don’t know, it looks like it’s heading home,” said his second in command, Garzzaen.

“It looks like an exhausted horse,” Barzzayr corrected, catching up with the poor animal and taking it by the bridle. It resisted, whinnying loudly. “Easy darling, let’s get you some water and a few oats, hey?” he said in a soothing tone.

The horse pulled away again and, to everyone’s astonishment, walked right through the door into the barracks. 

“I think he wants to enlist,” Garzzaen joked.

Barzzayr sighed and watched as the men who had been cleaning the barracks came out in a group.

“Why didn’t you chase him out?” he called out to them, walking up swiftly.

“We tried, Sir,” one of the men said. “But it ignored us, and has gone and laid down on the beds.”

“What?” Barzzayr exclaimed.

He looked inside; sure enough the horse had made itself as comfortable as possible across three of the beds.

“Well, I think this is where you tell the General,” Garzzaen said, slapping him on the back. “After all, that’s why he made you a Captain.”

****

General Mieghtyr did not suffer fools lightly. When the quarantine had been put into effect he had immediately done all he could to stabilise the outer cities and villages, keeping them from collapsing after being cut off from the supplies from further in. He had spent the last forty three years following the updates from the capital on the communications network and keeping the peace out on the edge. He was sturdy, capable, and did not like excessive frivolity, while admitting of course that *some* frivolity, at approved times and in approved ways, was healthy for the minds and hearts of men. In short, reporting that a random horse with no known owner had gone to sleep inside one of the barracks was not the sort of thing he felt ought to be allowed.

He suspected a joke, although his men knew that he did not enjoy them, but one look at the faces of his men put that thought out of his mind, even before he saw the horse for himself.

It was not actually asleep, or if it had been it had woken when he’d pushed the barracks door open for a better look. It raised its head and regarded him calmly, then without him having to say a word it rose and walked outside.

“It didn’t do that for us,” one of the men said from the crowd.

The horses walked right up to the General and leaned forwards, clearly examining him from a few angles, before it opened its mouth and held it open.

“Ah, that’s not normal behaviour, for a horse,” Garzzaen said.

“It was back when Haewkyr was here, remember? He used to make us brush their teeth and they’d just stand there with their mouths open,” Barzzayr said.

That bit’s too big for its mouth,” Garzzaen said. “No wonder the poor thing wants it removed.”

In the absence of anyone closer, General Mieghtyr reached up and gently removed the horse’s bridle.

“Someone get me a rope and I’ll lead it to the stables until we find its owner,” he said, turning his head.

The horse reached out, bit the bridle and tugged it right out of his hands. To his astonishment, it dropped the bridle on the floor and stomped on the bit.

“Well that’s a *bit* too far,” Garzzaen joked.

Barzzayr hit him on the arm. “Lame,” he said, “and in front of the men too.”

But General Mieghtyr was not listening. He was too busy looking at the flattened bit. It shouldn’t have done that, even with the weight of a horse on top of it, and there was a bit of wax that had fallen out of the end.

General Mieghtyr picked it up and, in a kind of daze that caught on as the men saw what was happening, pulled out the scroll from inside the bit.

He unrolled it and read the message it contained. He looked very hard at the signatures, he read the note again.

“Captains, all captains, my office, _now_ ,” he said, turning to go. “And someone take good care of that horse!”

Forty five minutes later the captains of the army currently stationed in the city were all sitting around a long table. General Mieghtyr sat at the head of it.

“Read this,” he said, passing it down. 

They read, and one by one they went pale and their faces turned ugly.

Barzzayr stared hard at Haewkyr’s signature. It certainly looked like his, and the horse, its behaviour, he had to be alive, which meant that this note had to be true.

“As per the protocol for plague outbreaks,” General Mieghtyr said when they had all read the note. “We have stayed far away from the affected area, we even avoid going to the edge of the quarantine zone unless we actually have to. No one has been close enough to see this wall being built, however, if it does exist, then we have been lied to all this time.”

“What if this is some kind of sick joke?” Captain Morrganyr asked.

The General nodded and picked up the other object he’d found with the scroll.

“Let’s find out,” he said and squeezed it with his fist. “Your Majesty? King Dorgen? It is General Mieghtyr and your Captains, we await your word.”

For a second there was silence, then a voice came through the amulet.

“General, it is good to hear from you at last.”

It was Lyrren, which the General recognised immediately, having had the Prince serve under him for fifty years, in the background of the Prince’s communication he thought he heard people cheering.

“Your Grace,” he said. “You are alive?”

“Most of us are, for now, we lost Uncle Musleen, and Uncle Camtan has had a few close calls.”

Several of the men around the table winced or looked pained at his words, the General included.

“He was a good man, Prince Musleen, a very good man,” he said, echoing the sentiment in the room.

“I know you are trying to reach my father but the shield that blocks us from teleporting is very strong in this area, it is preventing you from getting a signal through. He can hear me though, and he knows I am speaking to you,” Lyrren said.

“Please tell him that we have received his message and will obey his orders. The wall will be attacked and destroyed without delay,” General Mieghtyr. 

“Father? The General will destroy the wall… Yes Father… Father says that when you approach Fomalen will probably send reinforcements, but if you can defeat them, then we will have the power to take back the capital and defeat Fomalen at the same time.”

“We will do as he commands, this traitor will be brought to justice, for the King, for Vanahein, and for Prince Musleen.” General Mieghtyr said fiercely.

“See you on the battlefield,” Lyrren said in reply. 

The amulet went dark.

“You heard him, I want to ride out in two days, and we’ll have to warn the populous, if they can go to another town or city for the duration then they can do so, but it won’t be needed will it?”

“No Sir.”

“Will it?!”

“NO SIR!”


	63. Sixty Two Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Town of Haven

Loki rested the night in the cellar of an old house. His head felt better with each passing hour, but he knew that getting back through the reinforced shield would be a lot harder than arriving had been. He might have to use runes, although he was hoping to avoid it. In the meantime he allowed his mother to take care of him and slept as best he could.

Haewkyr was restless. It was midnight here, but to him it felt as though it should be much earlier, only dinnertime, and so he was finding lying down and sleeping tough to do. He tossed again, trying to find rest.

“Give it up, lad,” said a voice from the other side of the room. Haewkyr raised his head in time to see Lord Kinndyr light a dim lantern. “Let’s go for a quiet walk instead,” he suggested.

Haewkyr rose silently and followed him out of the room and through the various cellars. They had been knocked through to allow the resistance to move about easily. Lord Kinndyr reached a store area and settled on a sack of potatoes.

“I’m concerned about my son,” he said. “I know what you said,” he added, raising a hand to stop Haewkyr speaking. “It makes no difference. I have only a little magic, not enough to make training worthwhile, but still I feel uneasy. These past two days I’ve dreamt of him every night. I see him as a child, running to my arms. Then I wake and I *know* that something is wrong. I know how important his work has been to the resistance, but as a father I never wanted him to risk himself like that. If our king intends to take the capital while Fomalen’s army is tied up here, which I’ve no doubt he will, then I would like to be a part of that mission. I need to find my son. I need to see with my own eyes that he is safe and well. Will you, as the highest ranking member of the eastern resistance, allow me to accompany you back?”

Haewkyr looked thoughtful. He took a deep breath. 

“I will speak to His Majesty tomorrow before we depart. If he gives permission, then you may accompany us. But I will only ask if Noilasti grants you leave, you are an important part of his operation and I will not overrule him.”

Lord Kinndyr nodded. “I understand,” he said.

To Haekwyr’s eyes he looked old and weary; he looked scared.

“I’m sure he’s all right,” Haewkyr said, trying to be reassuring. Lord Kinndyr gave a sad smile.

“He’s my youngest, and he was always a little… different. Darker, I suppose, harsher, less ready to laugh like his brothers. I had trouble understanding him sometimes, most of the time really. He kept his mother company; he was her baby and she struggled to let him go. As a result he spent longer in her arms, he learnt to fight later than his brothers, not by much, but much wasn’t needed to make him feel lesser. Although once he had the chance he fought like a whirlwind. I was hard on him, because of his cruel streak, but sometimes I think that was the wrong way to reach him,” Lord Kinndyr sighed heavily. “I suppose all I really want is to tell him that I am proud of him, even if I don’t understand him. I don’t need to understand him to love him.”

Haewkyr blinked hard. This was a man who was suffering, and trying hard to stay strong.

“I’ll ask Noilasti in the morning,” he said. “And if you can’t come with us, I promise I’ll do all that I can to keep your son safe.”

****

The morning brought a flurry of movement. With the army on its way the risk of staying in the town was too great. Fomalen's reinforcements would pas right through, and they would no doubt be looking for whoever had alerted the army in the first place. Instead of staying, the small group of rebels planned to make their way back to the main western base. 

They were packing their bags when one of their lookouts suddenly appeared in the cellar.

“Troops, here on leave,” she said, without preamble.

The rebels instantly became more guarded.

“We won’t be able to get out of here today,” Lyrren said. “They’ll spend most of the day wandering from tavern to tavern. We have to sit tight and wait until nightfall.”

“There’s no way to sneak out sooner?” Loki asked.

Lyrren shook his head. “The town’s on the plains, you can see for miles in every direction. If they were back at the wall then it’s fine, there’s no one here to watch us go, but it’ll be hours before we are out of sight, we can’t risk it with them here.”

“Once the wall is under attack they’ll be coming through here with the rest of Fomalen’s army,” Hogun said. “We must be away by then, and I would hope the town can be evacuated as well.”

“I’ve told the lookouts, they’ll get the word out,” Lyrren said, frowning as he thought over their circumstances. 

“Maybe I can help?” Loki offered. “If I can get you all back to the western base by portal-“

“Loki, no, it’s dangerous enough to risk what you have,” Lyrren said. “I won’t let you.”

Loki resisted the urge to sigh openly, Lyrren was the crown prince and to do so would be a sign of disrespect. “I have to open one anyway to get back to the King,” he said. “Going so far might be beyond me, but if I had somewhere to stop and rest first…”

He trailed off, allowing Lyrren to finish the thought for him.

Lyrren gave him a look eerily reminiscent of his father. “Let me speak to my seidr advisor, if she agrees that this would be better for you then I’ll let you do it,” he said.

“Thank you-“ Loki started to say, as Lyrren turned to face Frigga.

“Well?” he asked her.

Loki shot Frigga a look; she ignored it.

“The shield is stronger here, the effort of generating a portal will be much higher than if you were trying to approach from the other end,” she said. “A rest would do him good, but at the same time, opening a portal for fifteen people is rather more effort than opening one for two or three. I’d say it’s about the same risk either way.”

Lyrren still didn’t look happy. “Are you sure that it’s worth it?” he asked Loki again. “We can wait until nightfall.”

“What are the chances you’ll get caught anyway with the guards in the town?” Loki countered.

“Reasonably high that they’ll see us, but that should be from a distance once the sun rises, so we should avoid capture,” Hogun cut in calmly.

“But if they see you, they’ll be suspicious, doubly so as by now they’ll know that they aren’t missing a horse,” Loki pointed out. “Let me help you get clear. You can plan your next move with the rest of your base now instead of in a week.”

Lyrren hesitated for a moment more before nodding. “All right, Loki, I’ll let you, but we need to move as quickly as possible, I don’t want you to be put at any more risk than we absolutely have to.”

Loki nodded. “I know I can do it,” he assured Lyrren.

“Of course you can, and I’ll be helping you,” Frigga said in a determined tone. Loki whirled around to protest but she held up her hand. “Don’t you dare try to tell me it’s too risky,” she said. “If it’s too risky for me then it’s too risky for you.”

Loki declined to say anything more, in case he dug himself deeper into trouble, but instead went looking for a big enough space to cast the portal into.

Lyrren briefed the lookouts left behind. They were locals of the town, and their new job was to make sure everyone kept their heads down over the next few days, and was prepared to leave in a hurry if necessary. If Fomalen's army suspected them of hiding rebels then they could get vengeful and violent before Dorgen's army arrived to stop them.

Then the rebels assembled in the largest cellar, lining up quickly and double-checking their packs.

Loki examined the wall in front of him, he’d had an idea.

“Fomalen is almost certainly scanning for runes,” he said. “But there are runes everywhere across Vanaheim, so he must be checking for two things, *recent* runes, and *travel* runes.”

“You’re having another idea, aren’t you?” Haewkyr said. “He’s good at those,” he added to the room at large.

Loki suppressed a smile. “I’m going to use a few runes to help me. No directions, just protective ones that will help to hold back the shield’s crushing force. They’ll be recent, although there’s nothing we can do about that, but they’ll also be protective rather than travel-based, that *could* just as easily be a merchant putting security spells on his stock. Hopefully Fomalen’s scanning spell won’t be able to tell the difference.”

“Weapons out, just in case,” Lyrren said, although Loki could see his eyes sparkling; it seemed the crown prince had been itching for a fight. “Go on then, Loks, open the portal,” he added.

Loki picked up a piece of chalk and drew two large circles, one inside the other. Inside the two lines, he quickly wrote the protective runes, before standing back and taking a deep breath.

Even with the protections, this was going to hurt.

He raised an arm and concentrated on the amulet in his hand. It was Lyrren’s, and it connected to his second in command at the western base. Sir Ladughen was waiting.

Loki wondered vaguely if he was still wearing the shiny armour the old king had given him for his services.

Then the spell pushed forwards, the portal opened, and Loki felt the crushing pressure of the shield against his head.

Frigga immediately took his hand and pushed her magic through him to help. The pressure eased, but only slightly.

The rebels ran through as fast as they could, clearing the opening in record time. Haewkyr waited until only Loki and Frigga remained, before grabbing them both and helping them through the portal, which closed behind them.

They were thrown out onto the ground, surrounded by walls covered in green moss and climbing ivory. Haewkyr had taken the brunt of the impact beneath Frigga, although this had left Loki to land unceremoniously in a heap.

Loki looked up and scanned his surroundings. They were in the maze; the giant maze with moving walls built by Lord Kinndyr as an attraction to awe and inspire. 

It was also the place Ladughen had kissed Loki under orders from the king to test his loyalty, and it was the place that Loki had been attacked and almost lost his life at the hands of Lady Nicceia.

“Let’s get inside,” said a familiar and unwelcome voice.

It was Ladughen, dressed in pants and armour, with a serious expression on his face. He scanned the skies above them with a suspicious gaze.

They followed him a short way to the centre of the maze, where Loki watched in surprise as he pressed against a stone brick and an opening revealed itself in the floor.

“When was this built?” Loki asked, fighting the pain in his head.

“Prince Musleen asked me to build it,” Lord Kinndyr said as they descended down below the maze into the chambers below. “About five hundred years ago.”

“Five hundred years? For what purpose?” Haewkyr asked.

Lord Kinndyr gave a soft sort of sigh. “Fugitives of the king,” he said. “Sometimes when their sentence was unjust, or when Musleen was not assured of their guilt, he would find a way to send them to me. I would hide them here until he gave the word, and then if they wanted to I’d let them go and settle onto my lands with new names and new histories, if they didn’t then they could stay here.”

“How many did he save?” Loki asked.

“A fair few, here and there, he was very thorough in his investigations though, and the longer he stayed in charge of the courts the less he needed me. In the last few centuries it was only really once or twice that I was called upon,” Lord Kinndyr said, still descending the stairs slowing by the light of the burning lanterns. 

They reached the bottom of the stairs and looked around them. They were in a vast underground cavern, inside of which a small town had been built. Loki could see houses and streets, a fountain, and even shops. To his astonishment a group of children ran by, shouting at each other as they kicked a ball back and forth between them.

“Welcome to Haven,” Lord Kinndyr said. “We’re set up in the western corner.”

****

There was a series of three story houses built into a kind of terrace in the western part of the town. The rebels had taken them over and turned them into a thriving command centre. Lyrren clasped hands with his leaders as they came out to greet his return, before asking them to find a place for Loki and Frigga to rest.

Loki almost protested; he wanted to explore the town but the pain in his head stopped him. It was growing worse again.

“You need to see a healer,” Frigga said; her face was pale and she was shaking slightly from her own efforts at helping him. “Just to make sure everything is all right.”

“You first,” Loki countered, but got no further as Haewkyr picked him up bodily and carried him, protesting, into his assigned bedroom.

“Lie there and do everything the healer tells you to,” Haewkyr said firmly. “I won’t let you hurt yourself, Loks, all this portalling is hurting you, we’re grateful, but knock it off.”

Loki tried to muster up a protest, but now that he was lying down getting back up again seemed a lot harder than it had been a minute ago.

“I’ll have a nap,” he mumbled, “then I want to see the town.”

“Fine, you do that,” Haewkyr said. “I’ll even wait for you.”

He left to fetch the healer, who gave Loki a draught for his head and examined him closely for signs of more serious damage.

“He’s all right,” she said after a few minutes. “He’s very strong, and his capacity for withstanding seidr is extraordinary. The only person I ever saw who could withstand such a pounding so many times was half Jotun, and *she* only had magical resistance, she couldn’t summon any of her own at the same time.”

Loki shrugged. "Father's mother was a Jotun, wasn't she, mother?" he said, holding Frigga's gaze steadily.

"Yes," Frigga said, slightly unnerved by his stare.

Loki turned away and closed his eyes.

Frigga thanked the healer quickly and settled down beside her son to watch over him as he slept.

After half an hour or so there was a light knock on the door, which woke her from a doze. It was Lord Kinndyr, and he was carrying two large bowls of stew, balancing them carefully on one arm. 

“I, uh, thought you two could do with a hearty meal,” he said, inching inside.

Frigga smiled and rose from her position beside the bed and walked over to him, taking the less-stable bowl from his arm with a smile.

“Loki’ll sleep for a while yet,” she said. “Perhaps you could join me instead? I can fetch him something once he’s woken.”

Lord Kinndyr smiled almost shyly and inclined his head toward the table on the far side of the room.

“Very well, my Lady,” he said, waiting for her to go first.

They sat and ate together quietly, talking about various topics ranging from the impending army attack to the sight of the fens in the summertime.

“I always try to be here over the summer,” Lord Kinndyr said. “The ground hardens and there aren’t as many swampy areas, and the flowers all bloom, covering the whole place in colour.”

“It sounds wonderful,” Frigga said. “I grew up in the east, in the tea fields, I’ve never been to the fens before now.”

“I’ll have to show you around,” Lord Kinndyr said, a little eagerly. He seemed to realise it and looked down at his stew. “That is, if you want to,” he added.

Frigga smiled at him. He had married young, but then, so had she. In some ways they were both inexperienced in the ways of courting and love, and navigating their way had all the hallmarks of youthful fancy.

It felt nice, after so long.

She reached out and gently laid a hand on his arm, noting privately the hard muscle beneath his sleeve.

“I would like that,” she said, being sure to look him in the eyes so that he knew she meant no deception.

He returned her smile with one of his own. 

Which is when Loki chose to wake up.

“Mother?” he asked from the other side of the room.

Frigga felt a blush come to her face as she turned away from Lord Kinndyr and toward her youngest child.

“Yes Loki dear?” she said.

“Are you flirting again?” he said bluntly, grinning at the look of shock that crossed her face. Lord Kinndyr turned the colour of a beetroot.

“Never you mind, my boy,” Frigga said, smothering her giggles. “Are you feeling well enough to eat something?”

“Not yet,” Loki said; he hadn’t yet raised his head. “My head isn’t hurting but my stomach feels a bit on the sensitive side. I’ll wait for a bit I think. Why don’t the two of you take a walk while I get some more rest? It’ll keep you out of my luxurious hair.”

Frigga gave him a playful swipe across his arm. “I told you to stop teasing your mother,” she said, fighting a smile. "And your hair is *very* long, isn't it? I'm amazed that it doesn't get in the way when you spar."

"Practice, mother, practice, and whose teasing? I just want some peace and quiet. I could *hear* you making eyes at each other from here,” Loki said. He turned his head enough to catch sight of Lord Kinndyr, who was lurking awkwardly near the doorway. “I’ve always liked you, your Lordsir,” he said, “so please be careful with my mother’s girlish heart.”

“Loki!” Frigga admonished, “I am hardly a young girl these days.”

“I’ve been reliably informed by the many and varied peoples of the galaxy that being in love makes you feel like a youth again,” Loki said, closing his eyes. “I have seen no evidence so far to dispute this, go and have fun.”

Frigga leaned down and kissed his brow. “You behave,” she whispered while she was close, before turning and walking to Lord Kinndyr by the door.

He offered his arm immediately and escorted her out.

“Please forgive my little troublemaker,” Frigga said. “Although he does like you, he wouldn’t bother teasing you if he didn’t.”

“Loki is a good man who deserved far better than he got,” Lord Kinndyr said. “I hope that one day he gets it.”

“Me too,” Frigga said, suddenly very serious, “me too.”

****

Loki slept for a few more hours before finally feeling well enough to rise and eat something. He hoped that his next portal wouldn’t be so draining. It shouldn’t, the shield was weaker here, but even so he had pushed himself over the past two days and he wasn’t sure how much further he could go.

‘As far as it takes,’ he thought to himself. ‘Fomalen must be stopped.’

He ate a big bowl of some kind of stew, far better than the rat-stew he’d had at the eastern base, before deciding to finally have a walk through the underground town.

Haewkyr had waited for him, as promised, and together they strolled through the streets.

“This reminds me of the dark forest,” Haewkyr said. “Better built of course, but the glow of the lamplights is similar. I can’t imagine wanting to spend my life here.”

“It’s not so bad, Sir, once you get used to it,” said a voice from behind them. It was a young woman, carrying a basket of bread. Loki thought she looked familiar.

She smiled, but then tilted her head at an angle and gave him a defiant look. In an instant it came flooding back to him.

“You!” he exclaimed in shock.

“I was wondering if you’d remember, your Grace,” she said with a curtsy.

“I thought you were executed,” Loki said, taking in the sight of her with wide yes.

“I’m lost,” Haewkyr said bluntly.

“This is…” Loki trailed off, he did not remember her name.

The woman laughed and curtsied again, this time to Haewkyr. “My name is Falteia, Sir, and I was once a member of the old resistance. I joined because I had been raped by a Lord and felt that no one cared enough to help. I was still a child under law when it happened, and I was so angry with the Lords, and the King who allowed them to do whatever they liked. I was caught red-handed with my fellow rebels and I stood before the old king himself and listened as he sentenced me to death. I had no idea that Prince Musleen would spare me, and now I fight in his name, and I am not the only one.”

“Who else?” Loki asked, hope clouding his voice. There had been three women he believed should have been spared at that trial, three women he was certain had died by the hand of the king.

Falteia smiled as though she could read his thoughts, perhaps she didn’t have to, for they showed easily enough on his face.

“They’re here, your Grace, Liaghtia and her two younger sisters, and her friend and fellow maid Fariria. He saved us all, believing that we had the potential to be good. He and his men stole us away in the night and his men brought us here to stay safe. After the death of the old king, we chose to stay, this has become our home.”

“I can’t believe *Musleen* broke the law,” Haewkyr said, a look of complete incredulousness on his face which made Loki laugh, despite the renewed stab of pain at being reminded of Musleen’s death.

“Musleen valued justice above all things,” Loki said. “Including the law, because the law is subject to change, especially with that bastard running things. Justice is different, it is *above* the law in a way vigilantes and rebels aren’t, or shouldn’t be. In a perfect world, justice tells the law what it should be.”

“I miss him,” Haewkyr said suddenly. “I don’t even mean as a friend, I miss him as a… a… a *symbol*, of how nobles should be.”

Loki reached out and took Falteia’s hand, surprising her.

“I’m so sorry for what happened to you, both as a child and at the hands of the king,” he said. “I’m more relieved than I have words for to find you here, safe and well.”

She smiled and clasped his hand in return. “You were a wonderful queen,” she said. “And I want to thank you, your Grace, for trying to save me publically. I will never forget that day and what you tried to do for me.”

Then she released his hand and, balancing the basket on her hip, left them to their wandering.

Loki and Haewkyr walked the rest of the town in a thoughtful mood, neither one talking to the other as they meandered their way around and back to the rebel base.

“I’m going to kill him,” Loki said at last.

He did not have to say who.

“I believe King Dorgen wants him to face justice,” Haewkyr said.

“Killing him *is* justice,” Loki said. “Besides, in the heat of battle, who can say what will happen?”

Haewkyr gave a kind of half-chuckle to that. “Who indeed?” he replied.

They reached the doorway and entered the front house, looking around for anyone they knew. General Hogun was sitting at a table and Loki went over to him, nodding in greeting.

“Hogun, it’s been far too long since we last spoke,” Loki said.

“Indeed, although we rarely spoke anyway, if I recall,” Hogun replied.

“True, you are a man who appreciates silence and I was happy to give it to you,” Loki said. “But I hope I can still consider you a friend?”

“Of course, your silences were always welcome,” Hogun said with the faintest of smiles.

Loki sat down opposite him and leaned back in his chair. “This will end soon, I can feel it in the air,” he said. 

“I believe you are right. With the army on its way and the palace likely to be left with partial defences, now is the time to strike.”

“Has any thought been given to the western base’s role in upcoming events? You are too far out to attack the capital, and too far in to help the army,” Loki said.

Hogun nodded. “I was considering that very problem,” he said. “I would like to propose a solution to you.”

Loki nodded. “Go on,” he said.

“I would like to combine the bases into one. This will double the forces that can attack the palace, improving our chances of success, and allow the people here to take an active part in reclaiming their home.”

“Have you suggested this idea to Prince Lyrren?”

“I have, he is speaking with his father now. This would require your assistance.”

“I know, I’m willing to give it,” Loki said at once, “if that is what Dorgen wants.”

Hogun nodded. “We will know shortly,” he said.

“How long will it take to pack up the base here?” Loki asked. “We should co-ordinate with the army, which means we should be out of here and back east in less than two days.”

“We will not need to pack everything, as we will be moving so quickly to attack once we are there, two days should be more than sufficient,” Hogun said calmly.

“Good,” Loki said. “I’ll be well rested and ready by then.”


	64. Sixty Three Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Portals, The Bog and The Plan

It was less than an hour later that Lyrren came to talk to Loki. His face was serious, but determined.

“Father has asked me to ask you if you will be willing to open a portal for all of us to join him at the eastern base,” he said.

Loki nodded. “I suspected this would happen. It’s the most logical course of action. I can do it, the shield is still strongest at the wall, so it should be easier to open and hold a portal here.”

“I’ve been thinking that maybe we can ease your burden and hurt Fomalen at the same time,” Lyrren said.

“Oh?” Loki said.

Lyrren leaned forwards. “He’s tracking the runes, and I know what happened when you moved the eastern base, the detonator would have taken out all those men.”

“You want to set a trap for him,” Loki said.

“If we can take out more of his men before the final assault that can only be of benefit to us,” Lyrren said earnestly.

“And you’re itching for a fight,” Loki added bluntly.

Lyrren’s mouth twitched as though he was going to say something, but he bit it back and took a deep breath instead. The mixture of youthful impulsiveness and royal training was fascinating to watch.

“You don’t approve of setting a trap?” he asked after composing himself.

“On the contrary, I’d like to hurt the man as much as possible, but we lost people last time. I don’t want to do it if the risk is too great, just so we can say we hurt him,” Loki said. “From the moment I start drawing the runes of direction there’s a chance he’ll be able to spot it. A detonator has too long a countdown time, which means we must defend the portal. That could easily lead to casualties, people who didn’t have to die, or, if you want to be a little more military about it, could otherwise be helping us take back the palace.”

Lyrren tapped his fingers against the table in thought. “So, do you have any ideas about how to set a better trap?” he asked.

“Not off the top of my head, but I’ll work on it,” Loki said. “Believe me, if there’s a way to hurt him I want to try.”

“We’ve been raiding his supply lines, sabotaging his works as best we can, but we’re too far from the capital to really strike at him, but father wanted me out here. He wanted me to try and contact the army, although we know how well that’s gone these past forty three years. Besides that, he wanted us far from each other, and he wanted me to be safe,” Lyrren said with a wry smile. “I understand it, but this is my realm, one day I’ll be its king. I want to gut that traitorous bastard for what he’s done to it.”

Loki smiled a slow, evil, little smile. “Not if I get to him first,” he said, eyes glittering in a way that made Lyrren lean back slightly.

****

They had a planning meeting with Hogun, Haewkyr, Lord Kinndyr, Sir Ludaghen and Lady Frigga while the rest of the base packed up what they would need.

“I want to open the portal away from Haven,” Loki said. “If I use any runes at all then I don’t want Fomalen to trace them back here.”

“There’re a number of fields about ten miles from the manor,” Lord Kinndyr said. “Although if I might suggest? About twenty miles out there’re the marshlands, they’re swampy and the ground sinks badly under foot. I know the safe way through, as does Ladughen here, but unwary travellers usually get stuck and drown. We’ve got a whole team of men dedicated to rescuing people, or failing that, retrieving the bodies.”

“If Fomalen sends his men into that, they may very well never get out again,” Lyrren said in a thoughtful tone.

“We can make it even harder for them if we add a few illusions to the area, fog and smoke, mirages, that kind of thing,” Frigga suggested.

“Good idea,” Lord Kinndyr said, making her smile. “Of course if you *really* want to be certain, thirty miles out there’s always the Bog.”

“The Bog?” Loki asked.

“It’s earned the name,” Lord Kinndyr said. “The marsh there is so thick and powerful that it’ll suck down even strong horses. We avoid it entirely and always go around; even in the summer it’s still dangerous. The mud there preserves the bodies so well that when we find one we have to date it by the clothes it wears. Less than ten years ago now we pulled out a body that we estimated fell in over ten thousand years ago.”

Loki shuddered. The Bog sounded horribly perfect.

“Why not do both?” Haewkyr said in his practical way. “Loki can cast a portal in the Bog and then leg it away to the marshlands. Fomalen will send his men through to the Bog, and while he’s busy waiting for them to report back a victory, Loki can set up a new portal for us that we’ll run through. Hopefully that’ll delay Fomalen in finding the second portal, and we can cast illusions around the area in case he twigs to our plan and sends more men through to the new location.”

“That requires Loki to cast two portals,” Frigga said at once. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.”

“With runes in place it won’t be a problem,” Loki said. “The last time I cast a rune-assisted portal I barely needed any recovery time. The biggest problem was Fomalen. I like Haewkyr’s idea, but can it be done? How long would it take to get clear of the Bog and back to the marshlands?”

“About three hours on foot for a strong, healthy person,” Ludaghen said. “The treacherous ground makes going faster impossible.”

“Not faster enough,” Lyrren said. “By then his men will be dead or rescued and he’ll be on the lookout for another portal.”

“Not if I go through it,” Loki said practically. “I’ll cast the portal to take me ten miles to the next portal site. The men will have to translate what the runes mean and report it back to Fomalen while trying not to sink into the mud. We’ll need to destroy the runes at the second site though, just in case.”

“The marshland will take care of that within a few hours,” Lord Kinndyr said. “But if you want it to happen faster, though, we can rig up something easily enough. Semi-dried mud patties with the rune scratched into them will dissolve in ten minutes if placed in the water. It’s not a problem out there to destroy something, preserving it is the harder task, unless it’s a body.”

“I want everyone ready to go in four more hours,” Lyrren said. “We’ll march out as soon as the light starts to fade, Ludaghen, will you escort Loki to the first site as soon as he is ready? You’ll have leave earlier to be in position at the right time.”

“Yes Sir,” Ludaghen said.

He glanced at Loki, who was watching him with piercing eyes.

“I’ll be ready in about half an hour,” Loki said in a reserved tone.

Ladughen nodded in acknowledgement. “I’ll meet you by the stairway, your Grace,” he said carefully.

Loki went to check the maps with Lord Kinndyr and Frigga. If he was going to portal in to the marshlands he would have to be incredibly accurate.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Frigga asked as she watched him note down the required measurements.

“It will help in the final assault,” Loki said. “Last time we had thirty men or so attack us, and they all perished as a result of the detonator. If we can do that again, Fomalen loses a whole division.”

“The marshes are perilous,” Lord Kinndyr said. “But Ladughen knows them better than anyone; he’ll make sure you get through all right.”

Frigga still looked worried, but didn’t say anything more as Loki made his final calculations. 

“You are certain that this is where you’ll be waiting?” he confirmed with Lord Kinndyr.

“It is, there’s a patch of raised land, sort of like an island really, right there. We’ll be assembled around the edges and leave the top for you to land and cast your second portal,” Lord Kinndyr confirmed. 

“I’m taking Haewkyr with me,” Loki said. “He’s good to have in the event of a crisis.”

“He’s a good man, I wish you and Thor could have known your cousins growing up,” Frigga said suddenly. “I was a bloody fool for keeping you apart.”

“Well, we know each other now,” Loki said, standing, grabbing what he needed and pushing his hair out of the way. “There’s no changing the past.”

“Here, let me fix that for you,” Frigga said, as Loki tucked his hair back again.

She braided the long black strands quickly down his back and fastened it with a leather tie.

“If I had a few pins I’d put it up for you. General Hogun’s people in the far north do so as a matter of course,” she said.

“Where *did* his people come from originally?” Loki asked. “Because, with the black hair and the brown eyes, I’ve always wondered. They do not look like traditional Vanir.”

“Midgard,” Frigga said. “The far-north Vanir used to belong to an independent kingdom, just like all the other regions once upon a time, only they visited and traded with Midgard for centuries after the rest of us stopped. I’m not sure exactly where on Midgard they went, but they often brought back brides from the area. General Hogun looks like his mortal ancestors.”

“I never went to the far north,” Loki said. “We didn’t go up those mountains.”

“It’s a harsh area, I’m not surprised the old king didn’t want to traverse it,” Lord Kinndyr said as they walked to the foot of the stairs.

Ladughen was waiting for them with Haewkyr standing by his side. He saw Loki and once again looked uncomfortable. Loki ignored the look and turned instead to his mother.

“Stay safe,” he said. “I’ll see you in seven hours.”

“Take care,” Frigga said, drawing him into a tight hug.

Loki, Ladughen and Haewkyr climbed the stairs together in silence. It was a long way up and they each had a lot on their minds.

Miarthyr, Lord Kinndyr’s eldest son, was waiting for them at the top. He nodded respectfully to Loki and Haewkyr.

“I’ve readied some horses, we can ride to the edge of the marshland, afterwards you’ll have to go on foot,” he said. “I’ll ride with you and bring the horses back.”

The mounted up and rode out under the afternoon sun.

“Does Fomalen have men in the area?” Loki asked as they cantered down the road.

“He has irregular patrols,” Miarthyr said, “but they are primarily centred on Lord Eveilyr’s lands; I believe Fomalen thinks he’s more likely to cause trouble.”

“Why is that?” Loki asked.

“Because he is,” Ladughen said, finally breaking his silence. “Lord Eveilyr has always tried to find ways to gain advantages over others; he’s not going to stop just because the crown has changed hands.”

“Also, he’s been acting up rather a lot since the takeover, to throw Fomalen off the scent,” Miarthyr added. “The roads are usually clear to the marshland, because it’s not a main roadway and there’s nothing of value at the end. I have a warning crystal in my pocket though. If it detects anyone coming it’ll tell me where from and how many.”

“Good,” Loki said, keeping his eyes peeled just in case.

They rode onwards in silence for the rest of the journey. When they reached the edges of the marshland they dismounted, and Miarthyr took the horses.

“Good luck,” he said. “Stay behind Ladughen at all times.”

“We will,” Haewkyr said firmly.

Miarthyr turned to Ladughen. “When the fight comes, if you see Smairken, tell him from me that he’s the toughest man I know,” he said seriously.

Ladughen nodded. “I will, brother, I’ll find him,” he said.

Then the three of them turned and headed out across the marshlands.

****

It wasn’t all that bad going for the first hour. The ground grew steadily softer, but it held underneath their feet. But slowly this sensation faded, and the water began to reach higher each time they took another step.

“We’re getting close to the tricky bit,” Ladughen said. He had been silent for the whole walk so far. “Stay behind me and try to step where I step from now on.”

Loki took the middle, Haewkyr brought up the rear. They continued over the muddy ground with Ladughen navigating the highest, and therefore firmest, path.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” Ladughen said after another hour had slowly past.

“I never *wanted* to see you again,” Loki said shortly.

Unseen by him, Ladughen winced. “I was ordered to do that,” he said. “I dared not disobey.”

“You could have tried obeying a *little* less,” Loki snapped.

“What are you two talking about?” Haewkyr interjected. “What happened?”

“This decorated warrior was asked by King Scumbag to seduce me. He wanted to know if I was faithful,” Loki said.

There was silence from behind him, but it was not the easy silence of travel, it was cold and not directed at him.

“It’s true, he asked me to test you,” Ladughen said quietly. “He was very clear about how far I was to go and how hard I was to try. I regret all of it. It was not the way an honourable warrior should behave.”

“Damn right,” Loki muttered.

“I should have lied to him and said I failed to seduce you without even trying. I should have told you what he’d asked of me. I was wrong in every respect and I apologise unreservedly.” Ladughen said, still keeping his eyes straight ahead as he worked his way through the marshy ground.

“You’re making it hard to hate you,” Loki said after a pause.

“I’m not trying to make you like me,” Ladughen said. “But in this coming battle we will be fighting together against a common enemy. It is important that you can trust me to fight at your side. I ask for nothing more.”

“I trust you to fight on the side of your father,” Loki said. “I trust you to stand by your brother.”

Ladughen nodded without speaking.

Loki sighed, and thought of his mother and the way she couldn’t stop blushing around Lord Kinndyr. If things went well between them then Loki would be seeing a lot more of Ladughen whether he wanted to or not. He rolled his eyes.

“Everyone deserves one chance,” he said, albeit a little reluctantly. “I will forgive you, and we will put this behind us. We all know how terrible that man was and the things he made us do. For my mother’s sake we may start again. But I will only give you *one* chance.”

Ladughen smiled, although he was still in the lead and Loki couldn’t see it.

“I swear to you, your Grace, I will never treat you so dishonourably again,” he said.

****

They walked for the afternoon and into the evening. When the light grew dim, Ladughen pulled out a lantern and began navigating by the glow, which slowed them down even further.

The Bog, when they reached it, looked no different to the marshland, but the ground beneath the heather and reeds was like thick soup, and there were precious few places to set your feet safely. Ladughen went at a snail’s pace, frustrating Loki, but there was no helping it, one wrong step would end in a painful death by sinking and suffocation.

The bottom of their clothes was coated with sticky mud by the time they reached a small pile of rocks that meant safety. Ladughen carefully pointed out the edges with a warning not to step beyond them.

“Can you make the runes on this?” he asked.

“I bloody hope so, seeing as we’ve come all this way,” Haewkyr said.

Loki nodded, then remembered that they couldn’t see him in the gloom. “I can do it. It’s tricky, because we can’t make a proper circle, but that just means a few extra runes. Stand ready in case they come.”

He took out a marking stick and scooped up some of the mud, which he smeared in patches at key points. Before it could dry he began writing the runes.

Ladughen and Haewkyr both had their weapons out as they stood on guard. They were wary of the fact that Fomalen’s portals could not always be seen before the first man stepped out.

Loki finished the runes and stepped back. “Do we wait?” he asked, looking at each of them in turn. “What if he’s not scanning right now?”

“Surely he’ll have a spell of some kind to do it for him?” Haewkyr said.

“Probably,” Loki agreed. “But that doesn’t mean his men will be ready.”

They waited for a few more minutes, growing tenser and tenser as the time ticked away. 

“Do it,” Haewkyr said after a while. “The runes here will still attract them, whether we are here or not.”

Loki concentrated and opened the portal. “I wish they had shown,” he said. “I wanted them to be here so I knew they wouldn’t easily make it to the next place.”

The portal opened and they stepped through, leaving silence behind them.

A few minutes later, Fomalen’s men burst out of his portal, hastily assembled and with their swords out. Five of them walked straight into the Bog waters and became stuck, immediately calling out for assistance as they sank slowly into the thick mud. Another eight made it safely to the rocks, only to stumble off them again while looking for their targets. Four more managed to stay safe, but lacked the rope necessary to safe their fellow men. When Fomalen finally stepped through, rather cautiously given what happened last time, he discovered that most of his men were inches from death, and the air was filled with their screams of terror as the mud slowly pulled them downwards. He opened another portal to the barracks and sent the remaining men back through to collect rope to save their comrades. In total they managed to save seven of them, but the others slipped beneath the surface and within seconds it was impossible to tell where they had been. The Bog claimed them as it did all unwary travellers throughout the millennia. 

Fomalen did manage to find the runes on the rocky outcrop, but by the time he’d rounded up fresh men and followed them, the western rebels were long gone, and the runes they had used had been sunk into the marshland and dissolved.

Fomalen cursed loudly and returned to the palace in a foul temper. Loki, it seemed, was helping to move the rebels about, which gave them a new and exciting advantage. The sooner the wall was completed and the army destroyed the better, then the rebels would be truly isolated, with no backup to help them. Fomalen could even hold the other, non-military cities to ransom, demanding Dorgen surrender if he didn’t want his people to die. He’d do it too, soft-hearted man that he was.

Fomalen took a few deep breathes to calm himself. So he had not tracked the runes in time, so the first destination had been a deadly trap. He was still alive, he still held the advantage, he was still going to crush them like bugs.

He walked through to Musleen’s room, intending to find his brother, but he and Prince Musleen were both absent.

Bath day. The sun was barely breaching the horizon and already his brother had begun the weekly ritual. Fomalen had tried telling him that Musleen didn’t *need* a bath, although the occasional dusting wouldn’t be out of the question, but his brother insisted on being stupid.

It was the most ridiculous blind spot a man could have, and for the life of him Fomalen couldn’t understand it. Obsession he understood, he, personally, was obsessed with ruling the nine realms and living a life of obscene luxury. But obsession with a *person*, that was just weird.

Would Woalfen kill Musleen to save Fomalen? He didn’t know, he really didn’t. The man clearly had no problem with forcing Musleen to do his bidding, indeed from their conversations Fomalen knew that he was looking forward to it, but could Musleen eventually use Woalfen’s obsession to his advantage? Frankly, keeping the prince alive was a stupid thing to do, especially after killing his whole family. Technically, that would leave Musleen as the true heir to the throne. 

But such musings were premature. Fomalen would deal with that if and when it became an issue. In the meantime he just had to put up with his brother’s strange obsession.

He waited a few more minutes, leaning impatiently against the doorframe and looking out down the corridor towards the bathroom.

It was not as though Fomalen lacked a sexual appetite, he understood desire, truly he did, although his ability to become aroused was intimately tied up with his obsession with power. He didn’t care what sex someone was, or what gender. He didn’t care what they looked like or even how old they were (within reason, he did not consider himself a monster, after all). No, in the end what made him moan and pant with lust was the idea of *dominance*. He’d quite happily have Musleen on his knees, knowing how helpless he was, seeing the humiliation and frustration in his eyes. But what would be better would be to have *Dorgen* on his knees, because he was the king, *much* more humiliating. Oooooh, maybe Lyrren on his knees with Dorgen tied up and forced to watch? Unable to stop the defilement of his son? Oooh Yeeeeeessssss.

The door opened at the far end of the corridor, startling Fomalen out of his musings. Woalfen appeared. He was carrying Musleen, not without difficulty, and they both had wet hair that dripped slightly.

“Here, brother, let me get the door for you,” Fomalen said, standing back.

“Thank you, brother,” Woalfen said, slipping past and laying Musleen carefully on the bed.

“Are you sure you’ve never…?” Fomalen asked, making an obscene gesture with his hands.

Woalfen sighed. “Always tempting,” he said. “Can you make him moan a little? The ‘dead’ response is frankly a lust-killer.”

Fomalen shook his head. “Not without waking him, and I’m not risking that,” he said. “But the wall is almost finished. Soon I won’t need him anymore and then you can make the merriest of merries. You will, of course, keep him out of the public eye? It’s important, brother, I cannot stress that enough.”

“Of course,” Woalfen said at once. “I know how important this is to you and I will keep him locked away.”

“In the highest room in the tallest tower?” Fomalen said. He sighed at Woalfen’s blank look. “You ought to read the tales from Midgard, brother, they are very entertaining,” he added.

“I’ll keep him out of sight,” Woalfen said. “I’ll even remove him from the capital for a while if you like, although I will of course be going with him.”

“There’s no need to go that far, I still need someone here I can trust after all, but I will help create a proper holding cell for him, a set of rooms that only you can enter and leave, with a large bed and room for some pretty clothes for him to wear,” Fomalen said.

Woalfen tenderly stroked Musleen’s hair away from his face.

“Thank you, brother, you are most kind,” he said.

Unseen by his brother, Fomalen pulled a face. It was all just so _weird_.

****

The eastern base was alive with activity. The arrival of the western rebels had caused it to double in size, but more importantly (and on Loki’s advice) they had brought *food*.

There would be no rat stew tonight.

Loki made his way to the command tent with Lyrren, Lord Kinndyr, Ladughen, Haewkyr and Frigga in tow. Dorgen came out to greet them, but he was overtaken by Mulmyr, who pulled Lyrren into a tight hug and wouldn’t let go.

“Mother,” Loki heard Lyrren mutter in embarrassment. 

“I don’t care what your men think, I haven’t seen my baby in thirty seven years, now hug me back or I’m not letting go,” Mulmyr said in response.

“Better do it, women gain the ability to cling like limpets once they give birth,” Loki deadpanned. 

Frigga gave his arm a swipe and he grinned at her in response.

“How have things been here?” Haewkyr asked Dorgen.

“Come inside the tent and we’ll discuss proceedings,” Dorgen said. He reached out and clasped his son’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you,” he said.

Lyrren gave him a smile over Mulmyr’s shoulder; she still hadn’t let go.

They managed to squeeze into the tent. It was still the only place with sound-proofing runes, but with three bases now combined there was barely room to breathe with all the ringleaders inside.

Dorgen, Mulmyr, Camtan, Burtchen, Daenceia, Shiarpia, Haewkyr, Loki, Frigga, Lyrren, Hogun, Lord Kinndyr and Ladughen all stood shoulder to shoulder and tried to pay attention as Dorgen explained about the ruby and its properties.

“We’ve had some success in your absence,” Dorgen said to Loki and Haewkyr. “We measured the castle and found the centre point, but it appeared to be just below the floor of the higher level. We had a closer look at the ground floor and there *was* a blockage of stone directly around the centre point, indicating that the vault was there, but we couldn’t find the entrance. We combed the castle with all the mages we had but had no luck.”

“Until *I* came to help,” Camtan said, sounding more like his old, cheerier, self. “Remember that stairway we found it the kitchen? The one that we thought was a servant’s corridor? Well, it wasn’t. The grooves on the floor indicated that it was once hidden behind a wooden structure of some sort, probably storage shelves. It was hidden from sight in Gullveig’s time, but visible after the passing of so many years had allowed the wood to crumble into dust. We followed it and – bam – there it was: the doorway. Dorgen walked through without any trouble at all.”

Loki’s eyes lit up. “You go the ruby?” he asked. “Where is it?”

“Still in the vault, at the moment,” Dorgen said. “Daenceia has had a look at it and she thinks she can use it to take down the shield.”

“So Loki can portal us right into the heart of the palace,” Haewkyr said, grinning.

Dorgen shook his head. “There is another problem,” he said. “Fomalen’s securities around the palace are formidable. It’s got an independent shield of its own, you can *only* come in through the front gate, under the eyes of the guards. Illusions are removed the second you step inside, glamour spells are useless. Without the ability to take down the shield we can’t get inside at all, a frontal assault would be suicide.”

“Can the ruby take down the shield?” Haewkyr asked.

Loki thought about it. “If it’s as powerful as the stories say then yes, but not necessarily from here, the *other* shield, which covers the whole realm, that has a point of attack that the ruby can reach, as it’s everywhere, all around it. If we wanted to attack the palace shield from here then we’d need a focus point, something to draw the energy through. Or we could take it with us and use it close to the source, that’d do it, but we won’t be able to take down the big shield then.”

“So it’s either the big shield or the little one, but not both,” Daenceia said.

“Not at the same time,” Loki said. “What we need is to find a better way into the palace. If we were inside already, then we’d have the advantage because *they’d* have to come through the front gate.” 

“What about the guard’s rune-tattoos? Is there anything we can do with them?” Lyrren asked.

Daenceia and Shiarpia exchanged looks. 

“We’ve been thinking about that,” Shiarpia said. “But we need both shields down, and we need to be inside the palace.”

“What we need,” Haewkyr said, “is a way to sneak a large number of people inside *before* we attack. Any chance we could dress up as guards? Use the confusion that will no doubt happen soon when the army attacks in the west, to get inside?”

“It’s risky,” Dorgen said.

“I know, but our window of opportunity is fast approaching, if we don’t find a way to take the palace back when the army attacks the wall then we’re facing a long, drawn out, war in which casualties will be enormous,” Haewkyr said bluntly. “So if anyone can think of a better way to get two hundred people into the palace at once I’d like to hear it.” 

Loki gave a little cough.

“I’m not even surprised anymore,” Haewkyr said, rolling his eyes and pulling a face across the tent at Loki. “Out with it.”

“We don’t need to get two hundred people past the front gate,” Loki said with a shit-eating grin. “We just need one person and a bag.”


	65. Sixty Four Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle for the Throne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't post yesterday. I didn't want this to be up in two separate parts.

Loki licked his lips nervously and adjusted the bag on his shoulder. This was *it*, their one chance to avoid a long, drawn out war with no guarantee of victory. Today had to succeed.

He turned to Haewkyr, who stood beside him with his own bag on his back.

“Are you certain you want to do this?” Loki asked. “He won’t kill me, but you have no such protection.”

“I’m a valuable prisoner,” Haekwyr said. “He’ll want to torture me, and that means he has to keep me alive. We’ve discussed this, Loki, I’m with you all the way.”

Loki nodded and looked back at where Daenceia stood beside Dorgen in the almost empty camp, looking nervous.

“I won’t tell you that you’ve got this,” he said, “because we both already know you do.”

She smiled then, tightly and with a grim look in her eyes. “I know,” she said, trying to sound confident. “Two hours.”

Loki nodded and turned away. He held up a hand and concentrated, opening a portal without runes, and feeling the pressure push down on him as he, Haewkyr and Frigga stepped through.

He would not have chosen to take his mother, but as she had pointed out in the planning meeting, if Fomalen had plans to marry Loki then he was unlikely to order the death of his mother, at least, not immediately. It was capture that was essential at this point; they had to get inside the palace.

They reappeared near the theatre in the capital; Loki could see the door of Shiarpia’s house from where he stood. He blinked hard to try and clear the throbbing in his head from pushing through the shield. With the strength of the shield shifted west it hadn’t been all that bad and after only a few minutes he felt the pain recede.

They walked quickly through the empty streets. It was night time, and the commoners were reluctant to stay outside under Fomalen’s rule. When they reached their target, a large public square, Haewkyr slipped away and placed some careful decoys on the ground in multiple locations, before returning to where Loki and Frigga stood.

“Time to make a little bit of noise,” he said softly.

Loki and Frigga both raised their hands and concentrated. In the distance the sound of running footsteps was created. The bulk of the army had been moved out to the wall a few hours earlier to face the army, but there were still enough to run patrols through the area, someone would hear them and come running.

“Let’s go,” Loki said, taking Frigga by the arm and leading her out of the shadows and towards the centre of the square. Haewkyr hung back and stood guard while Loki and Frigga moved forwards, heads down and cloaks pulled tightly over their shoulders.

They reached the centre of the square and Loki looked past Frigga, noting the shadows that were gathering at the edges near the buildings, the guards were here and no doubt surveying the scene for risks before stepping forwards. 

“Don’t worry, mother,” Loki said in voice soft enough to seem sneaky but loud enough to be accidently heard, “I’ll call Thor and he’ll get us out of here.”

He reached up both hands to the sky and let them start to glow.

The arrow would have gone through his head had Haewkyr not shot the guard firing it, throwing off his aim. More guards quickly swarmed the square, shouting at them to get on their knees. Haewkyr was grabbed and dragged to join them. Several of the guards took the opportunity to rough him up on the way.

Frigga was still looking in alarm at where the arrow had gone. Loki knew without asking that she was thinking it had been far too close, but that was why Haewkyr had come along.

Loki made sure to tilt his head back into the light as the head of the guards approached. He *saw* the recognition in the man’s eyes and knew that, for now, everything was going to plan.

“Secure them for questioning,” the head guard said. 

Haewkyr gave a lunge as if to try and escape but one of the other guards pulled his sword and held it at Haewkyr’s throat.

“Not one more movement,” he threatened, “or I’ll leave you here to bleed out on the street.”

The head guard set his men to search the area, several weapons were found as were a small number of fresh footprints, which caused the men to spread out and search for the rest of the rebels.

“How many of you were there?” the head guard asked.

None of them spoke. His eyes narrowed.

“Baistyr, Aridyr, take them to the palace,” he commanded. 

They were escorted away by a troop of men, all jumpy and on the lookout for more rebels. To Loki’s relief he saw that his and Frigga’s bags were both being taken along.

The bags were searched at the gate. Loki watched as the guards rifled through Frigga’s bag before turning to his. If he had been more of an amateur he would have held his breath. The guard opened the bag and peered inside. He froze, before carefully making a show of rifling through the contents while not letting anyone else see what those contents actually were. Then one of the other guards contacted Fomalen to tell them that they had captured Loki of Asgard and his mother, the Lady Frigga. Haewkyr was unceremoniously bundled off to the cells while Loki and Frigga were left to wait. Loki noted that the guard who had searched his bag was one of Haewkyr’s escorts, and that the bag was now hanging over his shoulder as he escorted Haewkyr deeper into the palace.

Within minutes, Fomalen himself appeared. It had been a long time since Loki had seen him but the man hadn’t changed, he still dressed in ornate clothing, he still bustled when he walked, he still gave off an insufferable air of bumbling superiority. He saw Loki and a large smile appeared on his face.

“Your Grace,” he greeted with warmth in his tone. “I *do* apologise for the treatment you and your mother have received, please, follow me inside where it’s warm.”

The guards still escorted them, Loki noted, despite Fomalen’s warm tone they were still very much prisoners.

Loki followed Fomalen in through the grand entrance, up the stairs and through the corridors, until they arrived at the king’s chambers. 

Despite everything, Loki felt his heart start to beat faster. The king was dead, the king was dead, the king was _dead_. He wouldn’t be beyond the door, he wouldn’t be *waiting*. It had been a hundred and thirteen years, why was Loki feeling so nervous _now?_

Fomalen caught sight of his expression and stepped forwards.

“Your Grace, please, I know this was a place of pain for you, but I assure you it has changed completely, step inside and I will show you everything.” He turned to the guards. “Please escort Lady Frigga to some guest chambers and keep watch over her while Loki and I talk.” He glanced predatorily at Loki. “We have rather a lot to discuss.”

“I’m not going anywhere without my son,” Frigga protested immediately as Loki tried to back away from Fomalen.

“You are a wanted criminal,” Fomalen said in a calm tone. “By rights I should put you in the cells, but I would prefer not to, for Loki’s sake.”

He looked at Loki again, this time with even more interest in his gaze. Loki scowled and clenched his hands into fists.

Frigga scowled at him. “You leave my baby alone,” she hissed as one of the guards tried to restrain her. She threw him off as Loki tensed in readiness to act.

Fomalen made a gesture and the guards grabbed her again, this time they were much less gentle. Frigga gave a cry of outrage and, using their bodies against them, lifted herself up and landed a hard kick into Fomalen’s stomach. She followed it by pulling free of one of the guards, grabbing his knife and plunging it into Fomalen’s chest as Loki knocked one of the other guards out and turned to deal with the next one.

The knife blade bent. Fomalen was knocked back, but otherwise appeared unhurt. He did not so much as put a hand to his chest to check for a wound. Frigga stopped struggling and stared in shock. Loki frowned as he looked at where the wound should have been.

Then the spell broke, and Frigga lunged again.

“Mother, stop,” Loki said quickly. “Please, I don’t want you hurt.”

“Very sensible, Loki, very sensible,” Fomalen said as Frigga angrily surrendered the knife to the guards, all of whom had drawn their swords. “Take her away now please. And you, who lost your knife, you are demoted, effective immediately. Honestly, why do I even *have* guards?”

Shaking his head, he led the way inside, leaving Loki to follow as Frigga was pulled away by the guards. Loki saw her look of concern but could do nothing. Their first plan, killing Fomalen if they got the chance and breaking into his rooms to destroy the palace shield controls, had failed, although how was a mystery. Now they had to fall back on their second plan, which meant it was all up to Loki.

Fomalen walked through the waiting room and the reception room to the private room beyond. Loki followed, fighting the memories that rose up in his mind as he made himself walk forwards.

The room had indeed changed. The tapestries were different, the furniture was less ostentatious and more functional, and the statues were gone. Fomalen walked to the wine table and poured two glasses.

“Well,” he said, handing Loki a wine glass, “Loki of Asgard, I have a proposition for you.”

****

Haewkyr allowed himself to be taken down to the cells. The two guards who took him also took the opportunity to give him nudge here and there, although the third man did not, he was more concerned with the bag he had over his shoulder.

Greed. It got to everyone. The bag had two dozen small gold pieces of jewellery rattling loose in the bottom of it, donated by the ancestors of King Dorgen, whom Haewkyr had no doubt would have been pleased to help the true king return to his throne. The pieces were so distracting that the guard had totally failed to notice the hourglass tied firmly to the inside of the bag, or the fact that it had been fixed in such a way that the sand was pouring through.

It had been approximately forty minutes since they had left the eastern base.

Haewkyr was dragged down a corridor past several people he recognised from the northern base, who looked shocked and worried at the sight of him, and was dumped in a cell near the far door. 

“No blanket?” he asked them cheerfully as they walked away.

“Just thumbscrews,” one of them snapped back over his shoulder.

The third guard said nothing, just hastened away as fast as he could without arousing suspicion. Haewkyr settled down to wait.

****

“Please, Loki, sit down. We are both grown men who I feel can have a reasonable discussion without resorting to unsavoury behaviour,” Fomalen said, gesturing to one of the many sumptuous chairs by the fireplace.

Loki sat down slowly and carefully, checking as subtly as he could for traps or bindings. 

Somewhere in this room or the next would be the controls for the palace shield, based on his known behaviour, Fomalen was unlikely to have set it up anywhere else. Loki had to destroy it; otherwise the second part of their plan would not work.

“I understand that you have been busy helping the, uh, rebels, portal around everywhere,” Fomalen said, settling into his own chair.

“Helping the true king you mean,” Loki said bluntly.

Fomalen’s mouth gave a little twitch of amusement.

“Yes, I suppose as a royal prince yourself you would feel strongly about such things like the right of succession,” he said. “But hear me out, Prince Loki, why should Dorgen have the crown? He never did anything to earn it did he? He wasn’t even the first son, poor dead Norbleen was, so why does it matter that *he* be king? The realm has hardly fallen into disrepair under my rule. I am, after all, a businessmen; I know how to run things efficiently and with minimal disruption, and after the injuries inflicted upon me by the, uh, previous establishment, I feel I have every right to see if I can run things better.”

Loki shook his head, “Dorgen is not his father,” he said, trying to scan the room for signs of concealed magic with being caught. “He’s a good king, and a good man. You just want the throne.”

“A good man? Really? He’s certainly done his best to persuade you of that. You threw your support behind him, without so much as a thought it seems. But consider, Loki, how good of a man is he truly? How good are they all? In all the years you spent here, all the pain you endured, did they help you? Did any of them try to stop it? Or did they *almost* step in, *almost* speak up? Tell me, did any one of them actually *help* you?”

Loki frowned and gripped his glass harder by the stem.

“The king would have killed them,” he said.

“Not if they killed him first,” Fomalen said in a very reasonable tone. “I tried to, you know, so many years ago. I saw what he was and I believed that if I succeeded I’d be hailed as a hero, a man *willing* to do what he must to prevent the pain and torture from continuing. But I was caught, and luckily managed to convince him to spare my life. But in exchange I was banished from my home, my assets seized and my family banned from speaking to me. I almost starved in those first few months in Asgard. In the end I worked in a tavern washing glasses, from a Prince to a dish-washer in a single night, or so it seemed. It took me a long time to work my way back up to wealth and influence, do I not deserve my reward?”

“I’m sorry to hear of your misfortune,” Loki said stiffly, not committing to anything while he still tried to locate the controls.

There was a soft glow of magic coming from a cabinet on the wall. It could be anything though, and he needed to find the shield before the two hour time limit was up. 

He had to find a way to take down Fomalen, but his apparent imperviousness to knives was alarming. Only a spell of the highest level could prevent such a thing. Even Loki could cast something like that… yet.

Fomalen took a drink of his wine and smiled in an understanding kind of way.

“I’m sure that your loyalty to them is strong, but ask yourself why that is? Were they *really* there for you during your marriage? Why *do* you owe them loyalty now? Really? We have both suffered as a result of the old king’s rule, you more than me a freely acknowledge, and in both cases, none of them lifted a finger to help us. That is why I have taken the throne, Loki, and that is why I want to offer you the chance to share it with me.”

****

The guard ducked away to the ‘toilet’ on his way back to the guardhouse. He scurried quickly along the corridors to his barracks, where he locked himself in the bathroom and opened the bag again with shaking fingers. 

Gold, pure, bright, gleaming gold. He reached in and scooped out a handful, catching about six of the precious objects in his hand. There were more in the bag, but for now he examined the first few under the light. They were beautiful, but more importantly, they were inlaid with precious gemstones. This haul would buy him a house, not a small one in the cramped end of the capital either, a proper, large house with a garden and a sitting room separate from the kitchen. It would buy him good furniture to put in it, and perhaps he’d even be able to keep a servant to do his cooking and cleaning. 

He dug in again and pulled out more. There was a diamond in this one, large and bright. He held it up to his eye and couldn’t see any obvious flaws. If it were as good as it appeared then that gem alone would get him the house, he could live on the rest for centuries, more if he invested the money wisely.

Grinning like an idiot, he reached back into the bag and grabbed the last of it; every last piece was worth a fortune. He could only imagine that the rebels had been planning to sell it to buy weapons for their cause. 

Well, he thought, it was a good thing he had it instead, the gems and gold here were enough to buy some serious weaponry, enough to cause untold damage. 

He scooped the jewellery into his own, smaller, purse and kicked the bag into a corner on his way out. He had to return to his post, so as not to arouse suspicion amongst his fellow guards. There was no way he’d be sharing this haul, not with *anyone*.

The bag sat there in the corner looking unremarkable for another fifteen minutes as the hourglass inside ran down completely. 

As the last of the sand reached the bottom bulb there was a flash of light from inside the bag, attracting the attention of a guard wandering past the barracks. He poked his head into the room and looked around, trying to see what had caused the flash. At first there was nothing suspicious, the barracks were dark and still. But then he saw, out of the corner of his eye, a slight movement.

He walked in and saw the bag. It gave another lurch as he approached it.

“Bloody mice,” he muttered, reaching down and quickly flicking the flap of the bag up to look inside.

He stared frozen in shock at the bottom of the bag, before an arrow shot straight up and through his eye, throwing him backwards onto the floor.

From the bag came the sound of grunts, hard breathing and other sounds traditionally associated with climbing a rope, before Camtan’s head poked itself cautiously out of the top of the bag and scanned the room.

“We’re good,” he called back into the bag and hauled himself out of the top.

He was followed by Burtchen, Hogun and Shiarpia, who each took up a station at the doors and windows as the rest of the rebels climbed slowly out of the bag one by one.

Camtan checked the time.

“We have just under an hour to lay the detonators and to get down to the cells,” he said. “Is the advanced guard out of the bag yet?”

“Yes, last one out now,” Burtchen said, glancing back. 

“Good, get out of here and set the detonators at the flyer hangers,” Camtan said.

Hogun and Burtchen shouldered their packs and slipped out of the barracks, accompanied by four rebels. The others remained behind to keep watch and help as yet more people climbed out of the bag.

****

Loki shook his head violently. Here it was, out in the open. Fomalen wanted him as a wife.

“If you know about what happened to me then you know that I will never agree to that,” he said, _“ever.”_

Fomalen shook his head slightly. “I think you have misunderstood me, while I don’t deny that you have a certain physical appeal, what I want is strictly political, an alliance with Asgard will strengthen ties with my new regime. If you have no desire for physical contact I will happily take my pleasures elsewhere,” he held up a hand, “discreetly of course,” he added.

Loki shook his head more violently. “No, you’ll want children, all kings want heirs,” he said.

Despite everything he could feel the panic rising up in him. He never wanted to be someone’s… _thing_ again.

“Not me,” Fomalen said with a smile.

“What?” Loki asked, puzzled. He’d completely forgotten his mission in the face of Fomalen’s odd offer. 

“Oh I don’t deny that most kings want an heir to leave their realm to, but that is because they like the idea of it continuing into eternity, a monument to their memory, despite the fact that most of us cannot recall the names of *anyone* older than perhaps our great grandfather. But me? I do not care what happens to Vanaheim after I’m gone, because I’ll be *dead*. By then it’ll be someone else’s problem. My brother’s children can have it if they want, let them squabble over it. No empire lasts forever, as long as it outlasts *me* that’s all I care about. No, Loki, I do not want heirs; you have to raise them feed them and everything. I don’t care enough about children to have any of my own.”

Loki looked uncertainly at him. Fomalen sat back and took another sip of wine. “We don’t even have to have a wedding night if you prefer. I believe you to be a man on honour; therefore your word in marriage is enough for me. I don’t want to hurt you, Loki, and as a show of good faith, despite their activities against me, if you join me I’ll spare anyone you call a friend, excepting, of course, my cousins.”

“Your offer sounds very reasonable,” Loki said cautiously. “But the moment we are married you might easily change your mind.”

Fomalen shrugged. “If you give me your word in marriage and join me as my queen, I will not lie with you, attempt to lie with you, try to convince you to lie with me, or even touch you in any way outside of common curtesy during public functions, such as taking your arm or hand to escort you as would be expected. I’ll not even make you spend any time with me socially unless you choose to do so. This I swear once, this I swear twice, this I swear thrice. There, is that good enough for you? I can add to the vow if you wish?”

Loki hesitated. It all sounded so… *reasonable*.

****

Haewkyr had been sitting quietly in his cell for forty five minutes when a slight movement alerted him to the fact that the pile of cloth in the next cell was, in fact, a man. He was collapsed in a heap in the centre of the next cell and didn’t look like he’d moved since being dumped there. Haewkyr shifted closer to the bars and peered through.

“Hey,” he said in a gentle tone, “you alive in there?”

The man managed to raise his head. “Whoever ratted you out,” he said in a snarky tone, “it wasn’t me.”

“I never thought it was,” Haewkyr said, relaxing slightly now that he knew the man lived.

“Turns out I *wouldn’t* sell out my king for a new pair of shoes,” the man chuckled painfully, looking up at Haewkyr. He was bruised and his face was swollen. There were a lot of fresh cuts. “I always told my father I would, but then I discovered integrity. I’m not sure I approve of it.”

“Smairken?” Haewkyr said suddenly. 

Smairken chuckled. “Do they know who you are yet?” he asked. 

“I’m pretty sure they do,” Haewkyr said.

“Damn, I’m sorry to tell you, but you’re in for a world of pain. I can cut your throat now if you find me a sharp enough stone.” Smairken said.

“I don’t plan to be here long,” Haewkyr answered cheerfully. 

“Don’t be flippant,” Smairken snapped, before groaning as his cuts pulled. “This is not a walk through the flower fields.”

Haewkyr leaned back a little jauntily. “I never said it was, but I’m still not staying.”

“Oh really? You’re just going to walk out of your cell are you?” Smairken said sarcastically.

“No,” Haewkyr said. “But in about twenty minutes a large group of rebels is going to come down those stairs and break me out.”

Smairken stared at him. “Don’t you dare lie to me,” he said. “Don’t you *dare* try to make me feel better about this. I will face my death like a man, thank you, and not like a frightened child who needs to be coddled.”

Haewkyr winked at him. “You’re cute when you’re angry, did anyone ever tell you that?” he said pleasantly. “Perhaps when this is over you and me could go for a walk through those flower fields you mentioned.”

Smairken growled under his breath.

Twenty minutes later when a large group of rebels burst through the door and broke them both out of the cells, Haewkyr told Smairken that he looked cute with his mouth hanging open as well.

****

Loki shifted in his seat. Frankly, he was surprised by this turn of events. Everything Fomalen said had an uncomfortable ring of truth to it. He tried to tell himself that things were more complicated than that, but he was having a hard time doing so. They _hadn’t_ helped him, they _hadn’t_ stood up to their father, or tried to stop him from raping Loki in every possible way. But, they had been as helpless as he had been, hadn’t they? 

And then there was Odin’s useless vow, the promise that meant nothing because by the time Loki was allowed to marry Thor he could no longer imagine doing so.

But who really had the power at the time? Was it right to murder a man and take his throne purely because he was evil? Musleen, a man so obsessed with justice that he fought all his life to remould the law courts into something that could be trusted, had *almost* done so, but in the end he had refused to stoop to the old king’s level. There were ways to remove dangerous monarchs, murder wasn’t one of them.

Besides, what kind of precedent would that set? Who’s to say Fomalen wouldn’t spend his life looking over his shoulder for the next ‘wronged’ man?

“I’m sorry, Fomalen,” Loki said, setting his wine glass down. “Even with your promise I can’t marry you. I swore to myself I’d never marry someone I didn’t love again; once was enough. And I don’t believe that King Dorgen is not my friend and ally, it is he who promised me a home here for as long as I wanted it, it was his brothers that helped save my sanity during the worst time of my life. They’re not perfect, but you are a murderer and murderers have no honour. I can’t trust someone like you to keep your thrice sworn vow.”

Fomalen sighed and put his own glass down. “I’m sorry to hear that, Loki, truly I am. I had such hopes for us. But if that is how you truly feel then I won’t force you.”

As Fomalen shifted in his seat, Loki noticed the odd stiffness of the man’s stomach. He remembered the agile way Fomalen had leapt to the side to avoid his weapon’s blast back in the forest, and in his head something clicked into place.

“Thank you,” Loki said, remembering his original objective in a rush.

“I am afraid, though, as a member of the resistance I am going to have to have you executed,” Fomalen finished.

Loki’s mouth curled upwards in an evil smile.

“You can try,” he said. 

****

General Mieghtyr rode on Lightning at the head of the army. They had amasses the greatest force possible in the space of two days, their task had been made easier by their isolation, as most of the men had been stationed in and around the three cities closest to the edge of the quarantine zone. 

Now they marched across the plains, horsemen in front, and infantry behind. The wall stood before them, a massive great structure of stone and seidr. It was not yet complete enough to fire but then it didn’t need to be, a dirty great stone wall higher than five men was enough of an obstacle all on its own.

General Mieghtyr picked up his sound magnifier and spoke into it in calm, firm tones.

“Men on the wall. We are the army of the King. You will surrender. Do not think you will be spared in the coming battle, and do not think that we won’t defeat you. Before the sun sets on this day the wall you stand on will be rubble at our feet!”

There was an enormous cheer from behind him as the army of Vanaheim beat on their shields and yelled defiance. 

The answer from the wall was swift and sudden. Three flyers appeared from behind it, bombers, no doubt, to begin the battle with mayhem and chaos.

But General Mieghtyr was not the head of King Dorgen’s army because of his good looks. He made a gesture with his hand and his battle mages stepped up and raised their hands.

As the flyers sped towards them, the army released their catapults, hurling oil-soaked gravel wrapped in paper and cloth into the air. The mages spoke a word and the flying missiles exploded into flame. Two of the flyers were pelted with burning gravel which clogged their engines and sent them crashing to the ground. The third managed to avoid it only by swooping low. Too low as it turned out, the pilot lost control and hit the ground, sliding rapidly towards the waiting army.

General Mieghtyr did not move. He sat calmly atop of Lightning and watched as the flyer slid closer and closer across the plains, kicking up a huge cloud of dirt and grass as it did so.

The flyer stopped less than fifteen metres away from where the General waited.

“Kill them,” he said simply.

His men surged forward and in seconds the men aboard the flyer were no more.

“Good job it stopped in time or that’d be really embarrassing,” Garzzaen commented in Barzzayr’s ear.

Fomalen’s army, realizing that they’d lost their bombers, yelled defiance from the top of the wall.

“They must think we’ve been idle,” General Mieghtyr commented calmly. “All these years in isolation and they believe we’ve *wasted* it? I was charged by King Dorgen to make the Vanir army a force to be reckoned with and I have not been derelict in my duty,” he raised his hand and shouted an order to his men. “Riders, lances ready! Infantry, spears ready!”

There was a pause as the men tensed. Those behind the wall let out a series of jeers; there was little the army could do against solid stone, not unless they wanted to be crushed by falling rocks. General Mieghtyr gave a very rare smile.

“Mages, ready!” he shouted. “For Prince Musleen! CHAAARGE!”

The horsemen took off at a canter, lances held at an angle as they approached the wall. Long before they reached it the mages began to chant their spells. Under the increasingly alarmed eyes of the men on the wall, the Vanir army horsemen began to ride into the air, as though on an invisible bridge. The infantry jogged behind them, spears and axes held at the ready. The change in inclination did not seem to affect them, and the watchers on the wall realised too late that the spell was lifting *and* supporting them as they took to the air; this was no hard run uphill that would leave them tired. The horsemen reached the level of the wall and began to ride on the horizontal plane; they spurred their horses into a gallop.

Some men on the wall fled. There was no protection against the lances from this angle. Many of them ran down the steps where they could, pushing each other off in their effort to reach the ground. Still more leapt from the wall itself, fear of the lance overcoming their fear of the injury and death below.

Most still chose to stand and fight. Possibly out of loyalty to Fomalen, possibly because they had no hope of reaching the stairs in time.

The riders hit the defenders with a defending crash. The lances picked up their opponents and threw them backwards hard enough to throw them clean off the wall, fifteen metres back.

The horses continued to ride on through, held up by the seidr of their battle mages. They turned in mid-air and charged again from behind.

The infantry had reached the level of the wall by now, and waited patiently for the second charge to be completed. The horses split into two as they rode back over the top of the wall and headed out to either side, leaving the main bulk of the wall clear for the next charge.

The men on the wall barely had time to pick themselves up before they were set upon by the Vanir infantrymen. The fighting was ruthless and the air filled with screams and war-cries alike.

Down on the ground, General Mieghtyr eyed up the gate. It had been closed in anticipation of the army’s arrival, but now with the top of the wall in shambles there was no one defending it. He could feel the impatience of the horse beneath him to be in the fray.

“Easy boy,” he said, patting his hand against its neck. “It’s almost time for us, I promise.”

He gestured to the remaining soldiers, consisting of three battalions of his best Melee-trained men. Three of them nodded in acknowledgement and ran for the gate. They laid detonators at the base and ran back as fast as they could.

The explosions destroyed the opening completely and caused the top of the arch to collapse downward in a hail of rubble. 

The way was clear, they were going in.

General Mieghtyr raised his sword. “CHAAARGE!!” he screamed, urging Lightning into a gallop. 

Lightning bolted forwards faster than any horse could keep up with him. He reached the rubble pile and, without waiting for the battle mages to lift him, sailed over the heap and to the other side. He landed steadily and immediately turned and kicked a defender in the head with his back legs. 

General Mieghtyr swung his sword and decapitated another one, turning his head away to keep his eyes clear of the blood as it spurted upwards.

The rest of his men caught up with him and swarmed the ground at the gate; they carved through the men below with the savagery born of bloodlust, capturing the gate and the stairs leading up from it to the top of the wall.

The riders let out a horn call to alert the infantry of their next charge. The men threw themselves flat as the horses charged overhead, hooves less than three inches above them as yet more defenders were thrown from the wall. The infantry were on their feet in seconds after the charge and continued their attack.

The riders turned again and the mages began to lower them down onto the ground. They wheeled about and charged the fleeing defenders, cutting them down with their swords as they tried to escape.

General Mieghtyr’s prediction came true, by the time the sun set the defenders were dead, the detonators had been set along the length of the wall, and the wall had been blown into rubble.

****

Fomalen rose from his chair with a smile. “Do you really mean to threaten me, Loki? I can withstand a knife blow; I can certainly withstand your attack.”

Loki also rose, keeping himself ready in case of sudden movements. “I know how you withstood the knife, and it has nothing to do with seidr,” he said.

“Oh?” Fomalen said, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

“You’re wearing armour under your robe that’s disguised to look like a belly,” Loki said.

Fomalen smiled. “Clever boy, and how did you work that out?” he asked.

They were circling each other now, slowly moving around in a circle as they sized each other up.

“When you dodged the weapon’s blast back in the forest you moved far too fast for an overweight man, and you rolled and sprang up like a warrior learns to do in training. Then when you sat down here your belly sat out solidly instead of squishing and folding as it should,” Loki said.

Fomalen grinned. “You’re observant. My father used to make us run miles every day, he used to force us into weapons training and make us do all kinds of agility tests… and I loved it, every damn minute of it.”

He reached into his robes and withdrew a knife.

“Why then do you get around in a belly like, oh, I see,” Loki said. “It’s an act, no one suspects a fat man of being able to move like you do, no one expects you to be able to fight.”

“It’s more than that,” Fomalen said cheerfully. “I find that you get further when people underestimate you, don’t you agree? They think fat men are weak and soft. They think *I’m* weak, even long after they should have learnt not to underestimate me, that somehow, by my very nature I am somehow less capable. Right up until the moment I kill them.”

Loki’s mind flashed to the times *he’d* been underestimated, by other mages, by the old king, even by Musleen once, before he’d learnt to know better.

In the instant his mind was occupied, Fomalen struck. He moved like a snake to cut across Loki’s neck, but Loki jumped back and out of the way, stumbling slightly as the back of his legs hit one of the chairs.

Fomalen did not give him time to regroup, pushing forwards as fast as he could to keep Loki off balance. He *was* well trained, and Loki felt his heart rate increase as he ducked and weaved, trying to find a way to break off Fomalen’s attack so he could catch his breath and find a way to fight back.

He managed to duck under Fomalen’s arm and land in front of the fireplace. Desperately, he snatched up the poker and swung it around, forcing Fomalen to jump back out of the way.

Breathing hard, Loki held a hand out and concentrated. In front of Fomalen’s shocked eyes he reached into nothingness and pulled out two knives from where they’d been put in the guard house after being confiscated from him an hour and a half ago.

“How did you do that?” Fomalen blurted out. “ _I’m_ the only one who can open a portal without runes! And even I have to use my talisman!”

“I guess you’re not as powerful as you thought,” Loki said, fighting the vicious throbbing in his head. He had broken through *both* shields to reach his knives and he needed a few minutes to let the pain recede. It was a risky move, but he needed something better than a poker if he was going to win this fight. He stood still and fought not to show the pain on his face.

“These knives were given to me by Thor,” he said, holding them ready. “One for my coming of age present and one when I left to explore the galaxy, each time I left him for centuries and each time he gave me a piece of himself to take with me.”

Realisation came over Fomalen’s face as Loki spoke. “He’s in love with you!” he exclaimed. “And you with him! Oh, well, you are *not* going to like what I will do to him once you are gone!”

Loki froze in place, then, slowly, his face changed until it looked positively ugly.

“Don’t you *ever* threaten Thor,” he hissed in a low voice; his eyes burned with cold fire. The temperature of the room dropped. Behind him the fire died as the wood froze, sending frost slowly climbing out of the fireplace and up the walls like the sinister tentacles of a malevolent being from the depths of Hel.

Fomalen looked unnerved but, secure in his own abilities, he pushed on. “I will do what I please after you are dead, and if that includes killing Thor and inheriting the throne of Asgard as its *rightful* heir, then there is nothing anyone can do about it,” he said smugly.

With a mixture of delicate grace and pure aggression he launched himself at Loki, bringing his knife up to strike a deadly blow.

Loki spun and slipped by him, slicing across the protective belly. He felt the knife jar in his hand but managed to hold on to it as he ran for the cabinet.

He grabbed it and pushed it down to smash on the floor; there was no time for finesse. Fomalen turned and charged after him as Loki darted out of the way.

“Really? The Shield? Do you honestly think breaking the control crystals will bring it down? You just shifted the power back towards the centre!” Fomalen snapped, chasing after Loki and he ran the length of the room.

The big shield, damn, that meant the palace shield controls were probably in Fomalen’s bedroom. Loki ran towards the door, ignoring the flashes of memory that told him to stay out of there at any cost.

Letting out a yell of frustration, Fomalen charged on behind him.

****

In the castle in the east, Dorgen checked the time. He and Daenceia had spent the last two hours in nervous conversation, only now, as the rebels should be in position, were they finally able to act.

“Are you ready?” he asked her.

She nodded; her face a mask of determination. She was strong, Dorgen thought as he watched her reach for the ruby; she would have made a wonderful wife for Musleen. 

Daenceia picked up the ruby and focussed all her energy on the shield around her. For a moment nothing seemed to be happening, although Dorgen wasn’t fooled by this as he’d seen too many magical workings before. Then, slowly, the ruby began to glow. It grew brighter and brighter as the energy rushed into it. All around them the shield began to flicker and wain, making the air itself crackle on the edge of hearing.

Daenceia’s hair was blown back by the force of the spell, but she held on as the pulsating ruby in her hand pulled yet more energy down. The castle itself starter to glow as it funnelled everything to the tiny chamber in the centre.

And across Vanaheim, the large crystals flickered and went dark as their energy was drained, each one giving out in rapid succession, startling the men who guarded them.

In Asgard, Heimdall blinked in surprise as Vanaheim began to reappear in his vision. It came in fits and starts, patchy across the realm, but slowly and steadily the images came together, showing an altogether different story to the one they’d been told. He looked and saw the palace, he saw through the smaller shield, as it was not designed to withstand his gaze. 

He saw Loki.

He saw Frigga.

He reached for his communication device and called for Thor.

****

Loki dashed through the doorway and into the bedroom. The bed was different, he noted in a dim sort of way, but then Dorgen wouldn’t have kept his father’s bed, and Fomalen may well have changed it again when he moved in. 

There was another glow on the vanity against the wall, the built-in vanity. Loki had been bent over that vanity by the king more than once.

Heart in his throat, Loki ran over as fast as he could, desperately trying not to think of the king and his perverted hands and cock. The memory was sharp and painful, even after all the years he’d spent away. But there was no time for that, no time for pain. The palace shield was all that mattered.

He reached it and leapt across the front, leaving himself bent in the same vulnerable position he’d been placed in so many times in the past. The crystals scattered under his hands and around him he felt the palace protections flicker and die.

Loki pushed himself off the vanity and spun, just as Fomalen caught up with him, lunging forward with his knife. Loki instinctively put his hands up to stop it as the movement dislodged Fomalen’s talisman. It fell against Loki’s hand and activated, opening a portal beneath them as they fell, now that the shields had fallen there was no resistance at all, and together they tumbled through away from the palace.

****

In the cells the rebel mages had drawn portal circles on the ground. They had all felt the change in energy as the large shield dropped, and had let out a cheer of joy at the feeling. Less than ten minutes later the palace shield dropped as well, freeing the inside and outside of the palace of magic.

Each mage stood outside a locked cell, and each mage, under the command of Shiarpia, enacted her and Daenceia’s plan by teleporting what remained of Fomalen’s guards from outside in, using the tattoos on their skin as guides. Haewkyr watched for a moment as the process began, before heading back upstairs.

“It’s working,” he reported to Lyrren. “With those tattoos there’s nowhere they can go in the capital where we won’t find them.”

“Good,” Lyrren said, but he looked worried. “Uncle Camtan has vanished, I think he’s going after Fomalen,” he said.

“Shit,” Haewkyr said. “I should have kept a closer eye on him, he’s been itching to go after Fomalen since the beginning of this whole damn thing. I’ll take some people and go upstairs to help Loki and find Camtan. “I’ll leave enough people to protect the mages and the rest can spread out and round up Fomalen’s other supporters, the nobles who won’t have tattoos.”

There was a series of explosions from outside.

“That’ll be the detonators,” Lyrren said with satisfaction. “They’re not getting out on the flyers, go and help Uncle Camtan and Loki.”

Haewkyr grabbed Ladughen and a large group of rebels, and met up with Burtchen and Hogun on the ground floor. They and fifty rebels headed to the front gate to prevent escape of the nobles that way, while Haewkyr, Ladughen and a smaller group of people headed up to the royal apartments.

They reached the queen’s rooms first, but they were empty apart from a hysterical Ellumyr who they quickly tied up and left under guard. Further along, they encountered some guards not yet teleported to the cells. There was a brief fight in which two of the men vanished halfway through and the others were killed. Only one rebel sustained an injury but it wasn’t that bad, so the company kept on going.

“Come on,” Haewkyr said. “We need to reach Fomalen before Camtan does. He’s not thinking clearly if he thinks he can take on Fomalen alone.”

“Maybe he won’t have to, Loki’s got to be around there somewhere,” Ladughen said, trying to sound hopeful.

He’d seen the state of his brother though, and his face was hard and his eyes burned with fury.

“Here’s hoping,” Haewkyr said as they sped onwards to the king’s chambers.

****

Camtan walked quietly through the servant’s corridors until he came to the king’s bathroom. He had guessed, correctly, that no one would be using them during the firefight, and he reached the door without incident.

Somewhere in the rooms beyond Loki would be standing against Fomalen. Loki was powerful, and likely to be able to beat Fomalen with Seidr. Camtan had every intention of taking advantage of his immobility. Musleen may have believed in justice, but Musleen was dead, and the reason was somewhere inside.

Camtan also believed in justice, he just wasn’t as stringent about how he achieved it.

He pushed the door open carefully and slipped inside. He could hear nothing from beyond the bathroom. He crept closer to the door and listened.

Footsteps, hurried and unconcerned with noise. Someone was coming down the corridor, but it was only one person. Could Loki have failed? Or was this someone else?

Camtan heard a door open and close. He opened the bathroom door and slipped silently into the corridor. Halfway down he hear noises coming from the king’s jewellery room.

Bracing himself and keeping his sword handy, Camtan pushed open the door and came face to face with the sight of Woalfen standing by a bed, apparently in the act of trying to move its occupant.

Camtan looked.

Camtan saw.

Camtan charged.

By the time Haewkyr found him it was over. Woalfen was lying on the floor in a pool of blood; his head was in the other corner, still with the look of shock it had worn when Camtan had severed it from its shoulders.

****

With the shield down and the crystals that had powered it drained, Daenceia stepped back and handed the ruby to Dorgen. 

“Can you get us into the palace?” he asked, pocketing it carefully. It was still glowing from the amount it had absorbed.

“Give me a second to draw the runes,” she said and headed outside. 

She worked quickly, writing the runes with a knowing hand before stepping back and focussing her energies.

The portal opened and they stepped through, appearing near the Bifrost site, which was empty as the panic surrounded the palace.

Dorgen looked up, echoing the habit of Loki. “Heimdall, I need to speak with Prince Occtir in Asgard immediately,” he said. “It is a matter of urgency.”

The Bifrost activated, and King Dorgen was swept away to Asgard. He reappeared in Heimdall’s observatory and immediately spotted his son.

“Occtir,” he said, relief filling his voice as he pulled the man into a hug.

“Father, I thought you were all dead of the plague, Fomalen’s message said-“ Occtir broke off and swallowed hard. “Are Lyrren and Mother all right?”

“They are, Lyrren is fighting in the palace right now, and your mother is helping to guard our mages as they work to capture the enemy. There are a lot of them though, I need what army we have here to transport down and spread throughout the city to maintain order. How soon can they transport back?”

This last question was addressed to Thor, who turned immediately to Heimdall. 

“As soon as they are in formation, your Majesty” Heimdall said politely.

“I’ll tell them to make ready,” Occtir said at once. “Come with me, father.”

Thor nodded his permission and father and son mounted up and rode down the Bifrost to Asgard.

“Prince Thor,” Heimdall said, catching his attention. “Loki has been fighting with them. Right now he struggles against a mage of considerable power.”

“Does he need help?” Thor asked, eyes concerned.

Heimdall rarely smiled, but sometimes, when the circumstances were just right, he did so.

It was a small and knowing smile.

“He does not,” he said.

****

Loki and Fomalen tumbled out of the portal together and landed on top of a hill. The earth was hard on top and grass grew all over it. Loki reached out and punched Fomalen in the face, knocking him off and away. Fomalen clambered to his feet and almost immediately fell over, the hill had no flat top to it; it was sloped steeply on all sides.

Loki managed to stand and take up a defensive position. It was only then that he realised where they were.

He was standing on the king’s burial mound. His mind had been so filled with thoughts of the king that when the portal had opened they’d ended up here.

Fomalen chose that moment to lunge, jumping across the apex from one slope to another and forcing Loki back. Together they tumbled down the slope, over and over, unable to stop as gravity and momentum pulled them down to the ground. Loki landed in a heap between the king’s mound and that of his brother’s, Fomalen’s father. Pushing himself up, he quickly dodged a blow from Fomalen and returned with one of his own. Fomalen managed to duck it, but not the knee that Loki sent his way. There was a crack at impact, and Fomalen fell back with a broken nose.

Loki ran at him, jumping partway up the burial mound and using the force of his jump to springboard hard into Fomalen’s stomach. The protection he wore meant that there was no damage to his organs, but Loki’s full weight behind the kick still sent him sprawling to the ground. Loki slammed his foot down hard against Fomalen’s wrist, breaking it and kicking the knife from his hand.

Fomalen cried out in pain before quickly making a gesture in the air. Loki felt a chill wind on the back of his neck.

 _“Wife? Wife? Where are you my beautiful wife?”_ whispered an all too familiar, and terrifying voice.

Loki turned in terror, only to be shoved to the ground as Fomalen pushed him in the back of the legs.

The King floated out of the side of his mound. He looked exactly as he’d last appeared, wrinkled, grey, eyes piercing into Loki’s with unbridled lust.

Behind Loki, Fomalen picked up his knife with his other hand.

 _”My wife,”_ the king said, floating closer. _”My sweet wife.”_

Loki’s hands began shaking as he rose to stand, beads of sweat appeared on his forehead as he stared, transfixed, at the king.

Fomalen stepped up behind him and drew back the knife.

Loki whirled and slammed his fist into Fomalen’s face, knocking him out cold.

“You stay away from me,” he said to the prone figure, before turning back to face the spectre of the king. “You too,” he added, raising a hand.

The spectre exploded into a million fragments, which faded into mist as they landed. Loki stood alone among the dead.

“I’m done running from you,” Loki said to the mound at his side.

Then he turned and opened a portal back to the palace. He had to get Fomalen back to face justice.


	66. Sixty Five Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cleaning up After a Battle

The Vanir army stationed in Asgard was sent down in groups by the Bifrost to the gates of the capital. They secured them, before sending some of their number further in to walk the streets and prevent any action taken by those of Fomalen’s men who still roamed free.

More men were then transported to the now-dead crystals scattered throughout the realm. They secured the facilities built above them and arrested the men inside.

Inside the palace, the transporting continued. The cells were extensive; a relic of a more violent time, so there was plenty of space for the mages to work in. Once Horrseen was made aware of what had happened, he rushed down to the cells with a large group of mages from the Tower to help. The exhausted mages of the resistance sat back in relief.

Loki arrived, hauling Fomalen, who was still unconscious. Giving strict orders to keep watch over him and to keep him unconscious if it was at all possible, Loki used a portal to quickly reach Fomalen’s bedroom, snatched up the scattered crystals and took them back to the cells. He set them up around Fomalen’s cell and activated them, preventing Fomalen from escaping via portal. Fomalen’s talisman he gave into the safekeeping of Daenceia, who was downstairs helping round up the last of Fomalen’s men.

“He should be helpless now,” Loki said, “although we’ll have to find a better solution to block his magic until his trial.”

She nodded, her face stern and her eyes hard. “He’ll surely be executed for this,” she said in a voice like steel, but Loki thought he heard just a glimmer of a tremble beneath her words. This was the man who killed her husband (bar thirty seconds and a few words); she was keeping herself under tight control.

“There’s no way he’ll be spared,” Loki reassured her. “He’s too dangerous and he’s done too much damage.”

She nodded and turned back to her task.

Haewkyr appeared in front of Loki as he went to leave the cells.

“I saw you briefly upstairs,” he said. “Does your head feel all right after all that magic?”

Loki nodded. “I feel pretty good actually,” he said, smiling slightly.

Haewkyr did not return it. “Good, King Dorgen wants you upstairs, along with Thainia, there’s something you need to see.”

Loki followed him through the palace, up to the very chambers he’d been in a moment ago. They were still empty, but Haewkyr led him down the corridor towards the bathroom, stopping just outside the door to the jewellery room.

“He doesn’t want Daenceia to see just yet,” he said. “Not until he can give her a few more answers.”

Intrigued, Loki pushed the door open and stepped into the room. He saw the scene before him and froze.

Dorgen and Camtan were both there, standing on either side of the bed on which lay Musleen, covered in a light sheet and lying very still.

“Is he…?” Loki started to say before stepping closer and checking for himself.

“It has to be magical,” Camtan said. “Tell me it’s magical.”

“It’s magical,” Loki confirmed, holding his hands out over Musleen’s sleeping form. “He’s asleep, an enchanted sleep, with… something else, something… it feels like a healing spell, or a preservation spell of some kind maybe. I’ll need to study it closer to be sure.”

“Can you break it?” Camtan asked, leaning forwards. Dorgen held a hand out and stopped him in his place.

Loki straightened. “I don’t see why not. A standard cleansing spell *should* work. I’ll brew up a powerful one to be sure.”

A look of relief came over Camtan’s features.

“I saw him die, Loki, I saw the blade hit him full in the chest,” he said. “Now he’s here, alive and breathing, but I can’t be happy until I hear him speak, what if he’s been damaged by all this magic?”

Loki nodded in understanding. “I’ll start the brew right now,” he said.

“I’ll get Horrseen to arrange some help for you,” Dorgen said as Thainia arrived. She saw Musleen on the bed and her eyes widened in shock.

Loki stood aside as she did her own assessment. On the surface it looked similar to him, but unlike Loki, who checked for the spell behind it, she was looking for signs of damage.

“He’s healthy,” she said at last. “Nasty scar across his chest but his heart and lungs are okay. Kidneys and digestive tract are shut down, but that’s the spell, there’s nothing wrong with him and if we bring him out of it they’ll come back as if they’d never gone. Blood pressure is low, but again that’s the spell. I’d say his aging has been slowed significantly, perhaps down to as much as one percent. Is that normal for a spell like this?” 

The last question was directed at Loki, who nodded. “Standard preservation spells tend to slow the aging process considerably, a hundred years can be as little as one to the person sleeping, but it doesn’t hurt them.”

“If you brew up a cleansing spell I’ll monitor him as he comes out of it,” she said. 

Dorgan leaned over his little brother and gently touched his forehead. “Brew the draught now, I’ll go and tell Daenceia,” he said.

Loki left the room with Thainia and Haewkyr. Camtan stayed behind, hovering over his brother like a guardian angel with a sword and a grudge. Loki had not missed the blood spatter on the walls and floor, someone had died violently and he suspected he knew by whose hand it had happened.

“Who died?” he asked as he and Haewkyr walked out into the bedroom.

“Prince Woalfen, apparently it was justified, although King Dorgen reamed Camtan out like crazy when he got there. He wants to be a civilised king with proper trials,” Haewkyr said.

“And a good thing too,” Loki agreed. “Mind you, Camtan’s not a monster, if he says it was justified then it probably was.”

“We’ll never really know. They were the only two in the room when it happened and Woalfen can hardly give evidence at this point. In the heat of battle such things are usually overlooked,” Haewkyr said.

Loki stopped and looked around the bedroom with a critical eye.

“Are you all right?” Haewkyr asked him gently.

“I’m wondering whether Fomalen kept any magical ingredients around here,” Loki said. “It would be easier than going to the Tower to source them all.”

Haewkyr narrowed his eyes at the back of Loki’s head, but Loki didn’t sound like he was speaking with false bravado.

“And being back here?” he pushed a little. “You don’t feel uncomfortable?”

Loki shrugged, tensing only slightly.

“I’ll always be a little uncomfortable here,” he said, “but I’m not afraid. There’s nothing in here that can hurt me anymore.”

He walked over to the cabinets and pulled open the doors. There was indeed a large collection of magical ingredients.

“I think everything I need is in here,” Loki said. “But I still need a cauldron and a fire.”

Haewkyr went to look around in the living room. He stuck his head in a moment later. “There’s a cauldron out here, and we can build up a fire in the fireplace as well.”

Loki grabbed the first of the ingredients and mae his way out into the living room. The cauldron was a good size, he noted, and Haewkyr was already starting to light a fire.

“We need distilled water to use as a base,” Loki said. “They have some in the kitchens, Fosxyr used to fetch it up for me when I was studying. We’ll have to fetch it from the kitchens ourselves, I suspect. It’ll be a while before the palace is running again.”

“Let’s go now while the fire is building,” Haewkyr said, carefully placing some thick logs in a layer above the fire-starting materials. “You’ll need it to be coals before you start to brew, right?”

“Yes,” Loki confirmed. “I’ll leave these here. If Fomalen had magical ingredients stored up here he’ll have all the equipment around to. I’ll hunt it down when we return.”

He put the ingredients on the table and headed towards the fire.

Haewkyr frowned. “What are you-?” he began, but stopped as Loki pressed the panel to open the servant’s corridor.

“You can’t reach the kitchen any other way,” Loki explained. “Fosxyr told me that, centuries ago. I just hope I remember the way, I only went there once.”

They got turned around twice in the passageways, but managed to find the kitchens eventually. To their surprise there were over fifty servants hiding in the main preparation room.

“Hello,” Loki greeted them carefully. There was no telling where their loyalties lay.

“Your Grace,” came an old voice from the crowd. It was immediately followed by a bleat.

“Lok Lok!” Loki exclaimed.

The little alpec was not so little anymore. He walked out of the crowd with the butcher behind him.

“I see that the palace is back in the rightful hands of the king,” he said. “I am much relieved to see it, as are we all.”

There was a general murmur of agreement among the servants, although they were unlikely to say anything else at this point. Loki trusted them anyway. They had families, they could be threatened, and certainly Dorgen had never done anything to earn their hatred.

“We came down here for some distilled water,” Loki said. “I need it for a cleansing draught.”

“Did Fomalen put some people under a spell, your Grace?” the butcher asked as one of the kitchen hands grabbed some clean vessels and began to fill them from a specially coloured tap.

“He did,” Loki confirmed, although he chose not to tell them who exactly at this point in time. “We need to free them as soon as possible,” he added.

“He hauled us all into the Great Hall after he took over,” said one of the servants suddenly. “He told us that he was the king now and that if we went about our business serving as we always had then he wouldn’t have to hurt us.”

“What happened if you didn’t?” Haewkyr asked suddenly, with narrowed eyes.

“He killed them,” the butcher said in a sad tone. “Those that stood up to him, or ran and got caught, he killed them. Most of the servants he replaced over time with his own guards, but some of us were allowed to stay on, the kitchen staff mostly, because they knew how to cook banquets and such, the serving staff have all disappeared. We have no idea who he left alive and who he had killed.”

Loki took the vessels with a nod of thanks.

“In the coming days King Dorgen will be taking stock of the people we lost. He’ll no doubt need your help,” Loki said. “For now I urge you to stay here, anyone trying to leave the palace will be under suspicion.”

The butcher shrugged. “We live here anyway, your Grace, the servants always have done. As long as it’s safe to return to our living quarters we’ll do so. We came down here during the battle because it’s the safest place for us to go.”

Loki nodded in understanding. “As far as we can tell the passageways are secure. Return to your living quarters if you want to, but not alone, just in case. We’re still rounding up the last of Fomalen’s men.”

With that he and Haewkyr headed back up to the king’s chambers, only getting lost once along the way.

The fire had flared up and burnt down a little in their absence. Haewkyr put on more logs as Loki poured the water into the cauldron and set it on to heat.

“I need a workbench and some knives,” he said, looking around. “He’ll have them somewhere.”

He found them in a cupboard on the side, below the bookshelves. With great care, Loki began chopping the first of the ingredients.

Haewkyr finished with the fire for the moment and walked over.

“Can I help?” he asked as the door to the bedroom opened and Camtan walked out.

“Not really,” Loki said. “I’d prefer to do it myself.”

Haewkyr nodded, he knew better than to argue with a mage about their workings. Instead he looked up enquiringly at Camtan.

“Daenceia’s in there now,” Camtan said. “Dorgen told her that you were already brewing the cleansing draught. She’s… understandably upset, but mainly positive considering the shock she must feel.”

“Are you all right?” Haewkyr asked him. “She’s not the only one who got I shock.”

“I’m fine,” Camtan said. He was so clearly lying that Haewkyr didn’t even bother answering; he just gave him a look.

“I’ll *be* fine,” Camtan clarified, sitting down and suddenly going boneless.

“What was Woalfen doing?” Haewkyr asked quietly, sitting down next to him on another plush chair.

Camtan scowled. “Preparing to move him,” he said.

“Was he armed?” Haewkyr asked.

Camtan’s scowl deepened. “No,” he snapped, sounding so much like his late father that Loki found his hand tensing on the knife blade.

“Did he ask for mercy?” Haewkyr pressed on relentlessly.

“No, as a matter of fact, he did not,” Camtan said. “He ducked around the bed and tried to reach a communication crystal to call Fomalen so I could be killed. Apparently I was interfering with destiny. I disagreed.”

Haewkyr nodded. “You know that your brother will be upset he won’t face a trial?” he said calmly.

Camtan shrugged. “I know, but there’s nothing he can do about it now. Woalfen was the *enemy*, Haewkyr, why are you all so concerned with whether he lived or not?”

“I don’t care that he died, I care that you killed him,” Haewkyr said with the swiftness of a snake. “I care that you didn’t hold back, and so does King Dorgen. Do we need to be concerned about you?”

Camtan was silent for a long time, long enough that Loki stopped what he was doing and turned to look at him. He was staring at the fire with a hard expression, like a cross between a naughty child and a stony-faced general.

“Camtan?” Loki said.

“It’s over,” Camtan snapped, rising suddenly from his chair. “That’s all that matters, it’s *over*.”

And he stormed out of the room.

“That did not go well,” Haewkyr said.

Loki went back to preparing the ingredients. “No,” he agreed, “but I think it will have the desired effect.”

“Are you sure?” Haewkyr asked.

“Mostly sure,” Loki said. “Camtan isn’t a fool, and he’s terrified of becoming his father. He’ll reflect on your words, and Dorgen’s. I believe he’ll come to his senses and admit he went too far. Although, Woalfen would’ve hanged anyway, he sounded like a nasty letch.”

“I don’t know the full story,” Haewkyr admitted. “But after forty three years of working alongside Camtan, I can’t help but worry about his state of mind.”

Loki picked up the first of the ingredients and dropped them into the cauldron. “Once Musleen awakens things will be different,” he said. “Camtan will calm down; he’ll have his brother back and that’ll help him considerably.”

Haewkyr nodded. “I heard that Princess Sofftia and the children will be returning soon too. I think he needs that.”

Loki started shredding the next ingredient, nodding as he did so. “They’ll be good for him,” he said.

The door to the bedroom opened and Dorgen walked through. He cast his eye over the room and sighed.

“Camtan’s gone?” he said, although it wasn’t really a question.

“He left in a bit of a temper,” Haewkyr reported. “We were just discussing how okay he’s going to be.”

Dorgen sat down and linked his hands together. “I hope so,” he said, before turning his head to look at Loki. “I thought you’d need to go to the Tower; how long until the draught is ready?”

“Several hours,” Loki said. “Fomalen had enough ingredients here for his own spell-working, so I figured that I might as well take advantage of that.”

“Good,” Dorgen said softly, he sounded exhausted.

“You need to sleep, your Majesty,” Haewkyr said.

“Sleep is for the rebels who fought so hard for me,” Dorgen said. “I need to be awake to see this all through to the end.”

Despite his words he didn’t rise. He, like all of them, had slept badly and been running on the energy of the chase. Now that things were calming his head was starting to nod.

Loki worked on tirelessly through the hours as Dorgen fell asleep in the chair. He worked on as the last of the rebels were finally caught, as Fomalen woke to find himself locked in a cell and unable to escape, as Burtchen and Shiarpia organised the rebels into a makeshift palace guard, as Mulmyr and Frigga worked together with the remaining servants to start the palace running again, as Daenceia sat by Musleen’s side and held his hand, as Camtan destroyed the practice dummies in the training yard one by one, as Haewkyr drifted in and out, helping some people and checking in on others, as Lord Kinndyr and Sir Ladughen sat in the healer’s wing and told Smairken how much they loved him, as the light of dawn turned into the glare of late morning. 

Finally the potion was complete, bar the one hour of required brewing. Loki glanced over at Dorgen, whose head had slumped. He found a blanket and gently placed it over the King, before wandering into the room where Musleen lay.

Daenceia looked up when he entered. She had been crying, and her face was a mixture of relief and concern.

“It’ll be another hour before it’s ready,” Loki said.

She nodded and turned back to face Musleen. “I tried so hard to let him go,” she said in a voice that was almost a whisper. “I knew he wouldn’t want me to dwell, or get stuck in the past, so I tried to let him go. But I failed miserably. All I thought about was defeating Fomalen, all I dreamed about was Musleen alive and with me, and now he’s here, alive and intact. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.”

“It looks as though you’ve been doing both,” Loki commented.

She smiled gently. “I can’t wait to see his eyes again; they are such a beautiful shade of blue.” 

Then she giggled, throwing her hands over her face like the girl she used to be. The sight made Loki grin. It was *good* to see her happy. In the coming days he hoped that the realm as a whole would become brighter. Fomalen was defeated; the dark times were finally over.

“Are you hungry?” Loki asked suddenly. “I’m hungry, I’m so hungry that I could eat-“

“-don’t say it,” Daenceia said, eyes sparkling.

“-a delicious-“

“-don’t you dare!”

“-pork roll, with gravy,” Loki finished.

She hit him on the arm.

“You and your pork rolls,” she laughed. 

Loki left her sitting by Musleen’s side and rang one of the bells to the kitchens. The servants were back and working, although their numbers were still low. He waited patiently until the passageway opened and a head peeped around to check what waited for it in the room.

It was Hieddenyr, and he smiled to see Loki standing there.

“Is his Majesty hungry?” he asked, leaning to the side and frowning in confusion at the sight of Dorgen asleep.

“He might be when he wakes, I was hoping that you might be able to provide something for Daenceia and me,” Loki said. “I know that the rest of the rebels had something not too long ago, is there any left?”

“For you two? Of course, I’ll bring it up, your Grace,” Hieddenyr said with a respectful bow.

He disappeared again before Loki could ask him not to do such a thing. Hieddenyr had fought at the northern base for years, and all the rebels had acted equally during that time. It seemed strange to see him back in his old role as though he never left.

Loki checked the draught again; it was still simmering gently. He turned away and scanned the bookshelves for something to do. Fomalen had quite a collection of seidr books, many of them focussing on dark magic, although there was also an abundance of traveling spells and book on illusion. 

On one shelf near the bottom, Loki spotted a copy of Giambattista Basile’s Il Pentamerone, the same volume he carried in his bag. There were a few others there too, and he idly pulled one out and browsed through it, flipping the pages without really seeing what was there. Some mortal named Charles Perrault had written this one, maybe there’d be something good in it.

The language was not difficult for one who spoke all-speak, and Loki settled in a chair to read while he waited for the food and the draught.

The first story was entitled The Sleeping Beauty, Loki only got about halfway through it before he put it down. It seemed familiar somehow, and he was struggling to maintain interest in his tired state.

When Hieddenyr returned, Loki was asleep in his chair. The servant carefully put down the large tray of food he carried and went to put the water on to boil. Loki liked tea, he remembered, and the King was partial to it as well. He made them both a cup of wake-up tea before gently stirring them from their respective slumbers.

Loki immediately checked the draught, sagging in relief when he realised he’d only been out for a few minutes. He and Dorgen both drank as Hieddenyr fetched Daenceia from the jewellery room. He came back with a pale face; most people still did not know that Musleen lived.

The three of them began eating in silence. The sense of anticipation was high as they waited for the draught to be ready.

In time they were joined by Mulmyr and Frigga, and eventually Camtan, who came in looking a lot calmer and a little sheepish. As a group they watched as Loki measured out the required amount and set it down to cool.

“Can you fetch Thainia please, Hieddenyr?” Dorgen asked the servant, who had been standing quietly by the wall. He disappeared into the servant’s corridor with a bow. “I want her here when it happens, she can monitor him,” Dorgen said.

Thainia arrived with Haewkyr on her heels. Dorgen did not turn him away. Instead, the group made its way to the jewellery room and gathered around Musleen’s bed.

Loki stood at his side and held the draught in careful hands. Thainia took up a station by his head.

“Here we go,” Loki said softly, before gently tipping a small amount of the draught onto Musleen’s skin.

There was movement in the air, a sense of something lifting and dissipating. Musleen’s eyes shifted under his lids and his head twitched in response. Loki continued to pour the draught, watching for the moment when it would be safe to tip some into Musleen’s mouth, as this would accelerate the effect.

The moment never came. Musleen twitched in his sleep but he did not wake up. The moment the draught ran out he subsided back into his deep slumber.

Loki saw Daenceia tighten her grip on his hand as, further back, Camtan stiffened and clenched his fists.

It hadn’t worked.


	67. Sixty Six Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confessions and Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, whoever called themselves the 'Camtan Defense League' and posted a comment outlining how he was totally justified for a heap of reasons...
> 
> I want you to know that I love you and your whole comment was golden, starting from the name you chose and working up from there.
> 
> I hope this chapter will help explain the true reason everyone is watching him so closely.

Loki and Thainia looked at one another in confusion. 

“That should have worked,” Loki said. “I was sure it was a standard preservation spell. It *felt* like a standard preservation spell.”

Thainia was checking Musleen’s head again. “He’s deep into unconsciousness,” she reported. “It’s as if the cleansing draught was never applied.

Camtan growled under his breath and made as if to leave the room. Haewkyr blocked him by physically stepping into the doorway as Daenceia drew a shaking breath.

“We’ll figure it out,” she said, and her voice *almost* didn’t tremble. “We‘ll study it and work on it and we’ll bring him out of it. Fomalen was powerful and clever, he’s managed to add something extra to it, that’s all, and when we find it we’ll reverse it.”

Loki and Thainia were already nodding. “We’ll put the Tower on it,” Loki said. “There’s bound to be mages there who have studied preservation spells in great detail, they’ll be able to figure out what’s going on.”

“Go now and find Horrseen,” Dorgen instructed. “I need to start sorting out the security of the palace and capital. We have a lot of work to do.”

“The palace is taken care of,” Mulmyr said with a smile. “The servants are back and working, twenty of them who fled when Fomalen took over have already returned to take up their old posts, and another twenty three who were in the resistance with us have already started sorting out downstairs. Fomalen’s personal servants were all tattooed and are now in the cells.”

“The capital should also be secure by now,” Frigga added with a twinkle in her eye. “Burtchen took over the city guard; most of them joined the resistance or went into hiding. They’re back now and already begun their first patrols. He’s expecting to report to you later today.”

“In other words, my dear husband,” Mulmyr added with a smile. “You should go and get some proper rest, as should we all. Dozing in a chair does not count.”

“How can you sleep when Musleen’s still lying there?” Camtan said abruptly.

Mulmyr turned to him with an understanding, and yet stern expression. “Because we must; we are all exhausted and the mages will need time and space to work. Whatever is keeping Musleen asleep will be found and broken, but it won’t be by us. We are needed elsewhere and we need to be *sharp*. Fomalen still has allies out there among the noble classes, and possibly even the commoners who for various reasons did not get tattooed. We need to investigate them, find out who they are and bring them to justice as well. And so I am advising everyone in this room to go and get some sleep.”

“Or we could just kick Fomalen in the guts until he spills the beans,” Camtan said.

“No, I will not have torture in this palace,” Dorgen said firmly. “Go and get some sleep, Camtan.”

Haewkyr shifted on his feet. “I sent a bird with a message, a *written* message this time, telling Princess Sofftia that we’d taken the realm back. She’ll be packing as we speak; waiting for word that it is safe to return home.”

Camtan softened. It was a subtle shift, barely noticeable except to those who were watching, but when he spoke again his voice was calmer.

“All right,” he said. “I’ll get some sleep, *after* I know that the mages have been told about Musleen and are starting work.”

“I’ll go and find Horrseen,” Loki volunteered. 

He headed down towards the cells, where Horrseen had last been seen, organising the Tower mages to capture the last of Fomalen’s men. He was standing among them, monitoring them as they worked and deciding when they should rest and who should replace them. Loki pulled him to the side of the room and leaned in conspiratorially.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

Horrseen looked surprised to see him, but then Loki’s presence on Vanaheim hadn’t had time to filter out to the general populous. He glanced about the room. “It’s going well, it’s getting harder to locate them, which means there’re less of them and they’re more spread out.”

Loki nodded. “That’s good, very good. But I need to talk to you about another problem we’ve encountered. There’s a situation upstairs and we need your best mages for cleansing and spell removal, can you locate them for me?”

Horrseen nodded. “Of course, most of them will be at home at the moment. The Tower is basically closed until the unrest in the capital is settled.”

“Can you send a messenger to their homes and summon them here? It is urgent,” Loki said.

Horrseen nodded. “I shall do so immediately,” he said. “Do I get to know what is going on?”

Loki nodded. “Yes, but not here, come upstairs with me after you’ve sent the messenger.”

****

Horrseen looked at the sleeping Musleen with shocked eyes. 

“I had no idea,” he whispered. “I thought he was dead.”

“We all thought that, and if we can’t wake him up then he might as well be,” Dorgen said from behind him. “Loki already brewed a powerful cleansing draught; Musleen stirred but did not wake up. We need someone who can investigate this and figure out how the spell is still on him.”

Horrseen narrowed his eyes in thought. “That doesn’t sound like the cleansing draught didn’t work; it sounds more like the original spell re-cast as soon as it was lifted. I will, of course, get the best mages in the realm to work on it, but in the meantime I would advise you to remove him from this room, place him in a new bed that you know has no secret runes anywhere upon it, and have his skin thoroughly cleansed of any and all traces of magic. Try the draught again after you’ve done that. It may be that the spell is hidden somewhere near him.”

Dorgen nodded. “I’ll arrange it at once,” he said.

“The messenger should reach my five best potion-makers within an hour. I expect to see them here in less than two. I will wait for them at the front gate,” Horrseen said. He turned and made as if to go before pausing and regarding Dorgen seriously. “It is good to see you back, cousin, all of you. I am ashamed of my brother’s actions, and I hope he faces suitable punishment. What he did goes against everything I was raise to believe.”

Dorgen reached out and clasped Horrseen’s arm. “I’ve known you for most of my life,” he said. “We played as children together. I promise Fomalen will face justice for what he’s done, and I promise *you* that your blood-link with him is irrelevant in my eyes.”

Horrseen gave a small smile. “Thank you, cousin,” he said and left to wait for his mages.

Loki swayed slightly on his feet. He’d been up for too long and had used a lot of magic over the past few days. Unfortunately for him, Frigga saw his movement.

“Bed,” she said at once. “You need rest and time to recover, come with me and I’ll find you somewhere to sleep.”

Loki thought about groaning but his head was starting to swim. “All right,” he mumbled instead.

“Now I *know* you’re tired,” Frigga said, taking him by the arm and leading him out of the king’s chambers.

They ended up in the guest wing of the palace. There were several dozen rooms empty of belongings which were nevertheless properly made up. Frigga pointed wordlessly at one of them.

Loki obeyed her silent command, pulling off the hard leather he wore as protection and crawling into the bed in his undershirt and pants. He was asleep before Frigga left the room.

**** 

Musleen was moved from the jewellery room and placed in his old chambers in the palace. The level of security around them was so high that it took Burtchen twenty minutes to get inside, and *he* had pre-approved access. It was felt that Fomalen would have been unable to extend his cursèd spell inside.

A new batch of cleansing draught was poured over his skin, but the same things happened, a stirring, eyes moving beneath closed lids, followed by a subsidence back into deep sleep.

When the mages from the Tower arrived they studied him from every angle. Then they went away to brew up the strongest cleansing potion known to Vanir. It was a risky thing to try, as it had a habit of cleansing the colour from a person’s skin, and sometimes the memories from a person’s mind, but it also took a full month to brew, and so they felt that if they hadn’t solved the problem by then the king might be willing to risk it.

Horrseen sent for the strongest healer mages he knew to look further into Musleen’s mind, as some of the more persistent spells could be lodged there, gaining their power from their victim. Much discussion was had over Musleen’s prone form but no solutions were forthcoming.

“It’s acting like a sleeping spell, which means it *should* be in his head,” one of the healers argued.

“But it’s slowed down his aging, *that’s* a preservation spell,” answered another.

“But preservation spells are cast over an area, not a person,” said the first. “Once he was removed from the area the spell would have no power and the standard cleansing draught should have worked.”

“I can’t detect anything in his head,” said another. “I don’t think it’s a sleeping spell, at least, not a traditional one.”

“What if it’s a combination of both?” suggested yet another. “Fomalen was powerful, but half his success came from being *very* inventive. He found lots of ways to make spells more efficient, maybe he did it to this one too?”

“You mean he may have found a way to cast a preservation spell onto a *person*, perhaps by using the sleeping spell’s mechanism? It’s intriguing I’ll give you that,” said the first.

Loki sat at the back of the room and watched them argue. He was racking his brains trying to come up with a way to figure out what Fomalen had done.

“We could just go and ask him?” suggested Daenceia by his side. 

With each passing day her joy had diminished, now her shoulders slumped and she slouched in her chair.

“Dorgen has forbidden anyone from speaking to him. He’s in his own isolated cell now, watched over by Burtchen’s finest guards,” Loki said.

“By *Musleen’s* finest guards,” Daenceia corrected. 

Loki winced. “Yes, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” he said.

“I know,” Daenceia sighed. “I see him lying there so still and I hate it, I hate Fomalen, I hate *all* of this.”

Loki reached out and took her hand. “We’ll find the answer,” he said. “I’m sure if all else fails Dorgen *will* talk to Fomalen, he’s just not prepared to do so straight away, let the man sit in the dark and worry about his fate.”

Daenceia managed a smile. “I hope it softens him up,” she said.

Beside the bed, the argument continued on without result.

****

Smairken was embarrassed. It was not an emotion that he often felt, while at the same time being rather good at causing it in other people. He was embarrassed because his father was being extremely supportive and Smairken wasn’t quite sure how to respond.

Supportive in more than one way at the moment, Smairken was hobbling down the corridor of the healer’s wing; Lord Kinndyr was helping to keep him from falling over.

“You don’t have to do this, Father, I’m sure the servants would oblige me,” Smairken said as they negotiated the awkward corner at the end of the corridor.

“It is my honour,” Lord Kinndyr said, reaching out carefully to open the door beyond the corner.

Smairken wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. As far as he was aware he’d never done anything to make helping him an honour, over the last forty three years he’s somehow entered a strange, new world in which he wasn’t a walking disappointment.

The weird thing was that he hadn’t done it to fit in or to be more like his brothers, he’d done it because *he’d* wanted to. He’d done it because of who *he* was. He’d never considered before that there was anything about him that would be considered worthy.

They entered the little room, which was a small bathroom and toilet, and Lord Kinddyr helped him pull his robe up so he could empty his bladder.

“This is embarrassing,” Smairken muttered.

Lord Kinddyr chuckled. “I used to change your soiled nappy, boy, this is nothing.”

“You did?” SMairken asked. “What was the Nanny for then?”

“Oh she did it too, more often than me I’ll admit, but your brothers were so loud and boisterous that sometimes I’d take you into my study for an afternoon while she minded them, and, naturally, that is when you chose to crap yourself.”

“Charming,” Smairken muttered, making his father laugh.

“You should have *seen* what you saved up for me,” Lord Kinndyr said in good humour. “I was convinced you were doing it on purpose at one point, but your mother assured me that I was paranoid.”

Smairken washed his hands, leaning heavily on the basin as he did so. Lord Kinndyr offered his shoulder again as they made their way out of the room.

“Perhaps you weren’t paranoid,” he joked. “Perhaps I was protesting something, the milk I was given, or the comfortableness of my blanket.”

“Perhaps,” Lord Kinndyr said with a smile as they started the slow walk back to Smairken’s bed.

About halfway down Smairken’s hand briefly clenched and released around his father’s shoulder.

“He’s back,” he muttered in a low voice.

“It appears your admirer is persistent,” Lord Kinndyr said.

“You’re not helping,” Smairken said.

“I’m not trying to. Do you object to him? I’ll tell him to leave you be if you do,” Lord Kinndyr offered.

Smairken thought about it. “No, not really,” he muttered.

“Then I’ll leave you two to talk,” Lord Kinndyr said, sounding, in Smairken’s opinion, far too pleased at this strange development in his son’s life.

He helped Smairken back into his bed before nodding at the visitor and leaving them alone together.

“Hi,” Haewkyr said with a grin.

“Hi,” Smairken said, without one.

“Miss me?”

“Not from this distance,” Smairken said speculatively.

“How’re your injuries healing?” Haewkyr asked in a gentler tone.

“Slowly,” Smairken said, pouting. “They said the burns are infected, so they’re keeping me in here until they can fix that, and the bruising is deep. They stitched the bones in my legs back together, but the breaks were so bad that I’m not allowed to go back to the training ring for three months, as putting any strain on my legs beyond walking may cause micro-fractures at the weak points.”

“What are you planning to do instead?” Haewkyr asked him.

“Sulk,” Smairken snapped.

Haewkyr just laughed.

“Stop laughing at me,” Smairken growled. “You laugh too much.”

“Sorry, sorry, I can’t help it though, you remind me of a crow I knew once. Crabby little thing, used to try and claw the eyes out of anyone he didn’t like the look of, but then one day in winter when the land was covered in snow, absolutely covered, I opened my window back home and who was sitting on the sill fluffed up like a little black puffball? That’s right, old crabby-crow. He told me to stop laughing and build up the fire for him, his feet were cold.”

“I remind you of a mangy *bird*?” Smairken said, insulted. “I almost died! I’m going to be healing months from now, and you come along and laugh at me for being upset? Get out! Get out and leave me alone!”

Haewkyr just grinned and gave him a wink. “Next winter he brought seven young chicks to my window to spend the winter in the warm. They weren’t his, they were just late to hatch and late to take wing. They should have died. I tried to tell him what a noble act it was and he responded by taking a small chunk out of my finger, see?”

Sure enough, there was a dent and a scar on the tip of his right index finger.

“I’m still failing to see your point,” Smairken said icily.

“I didn’t kick him out for it, not once in all his life,” Haewkyr said conversationally. He looked sideways at where Smairken lay. “I’m not afraid of getting bitten, and I’m not going to walk away from someone who’s crabby, not when I know they’ve got a good heart, and *especially* when they can’t even look me in the eye when they’re trying to kick me out.”

Smairken turned, mouth already open to tell Haewkyr to get lost, and locked his grey eyes onto Haewkyr’s blue ones.

There was a long moment of silence.

Smairken turned away. “I still don’t like being compared to a mangy *bird* he muttered, staring fixedly at the wall.

Haewkyr just laughed.

****

Camtan was in the training yards when Doregn approached him. He was practicing his swings, going through the steps of various routines over and over. From the outside it looked like a graceful dance.

Dorgen picked up a sword from the equipment rack and held it thoughtfully, testing the weight in his hand, too heavy. He put it back and grabbed another, too light. The third one he tried was better, and he stepped forwards into the ring marked into the ground where Camtan was practicing. Camtan caught sight of him out of the corner of his eye and stopped what he was doing.

“What are you doing?” he asked his older brother.

“It’s been a while since I picked up a sword, would you care to give me some advice while I practice?” Dorgen asked him, taking up the first stance.

Camtan rolled his eyes. “Really? Deception? Brother just spit it out, I shouldn’t have killed my brother’s _rapist_ , solely because he was unarmed, although I would like to point out that he had a dagger under his outer robe that was found when his body was searched.”

“So my stance is all right then?” Dorgen asked, ignoring Camtan’s words.

Camtan rolled his eyes again and walked over. He used his foot to nudge Dorgen’s right ankle into a slightly better position. “There, fine,” he said. “Do you have anything to say?”

“I do,” Dorgen said, making the first in a series of movements. Camtan couldn’t help but watch with a critical eye. Dorgen wasn’t doing too badly for a man in middle age who no longer practiced. In fact, Camtan couldn’t ever remember him picking up a sword before.

“And what is that?” he asked.

“I’d like you to explain why you left your post in the middle of battle to pursue an enemy that you knew could over power you with magic, with no protection against that magic, and no thought in your head for how your death would have utterly destroyed me,” Dorgen said, completing the manoeuvre.

Camtan scowled and looked away. “Lyrren had it well in hand,” he said.

“But you were in charge. You served in the army, brother, you know what the penalty is for desertion of your duties,” Dorgen said calmly, taking up a new stance.

Camtan reached out and adjusted his brother’s arm slightly.

“I didn’t know that the resistance was an army,” he said, but his voice didn’t hold much conviction.

“Of course it was, it was the army of the King, and you were one of my generals whether you were referred to as such or not.” Dorgen began the second set of steps, almost overbalancing at one point but managing to save himself at the last second.

“You lunged too far there,” Camtan said. “Brother, I-“

“Do you want to know what the two worst days of my life were?” Dorgen said, finishing the second exercise and straightening. “The day Norbleen died and the day I thought Musleen died. I have three brothers, Cammie, losing two of them was more than enough for one lifetime.”

“I was only going to engage him if he was sufficiently distracted by Loki!” Camtan protested. “And don’t point out to me that we might need him to save Musleen, I’ve already come to that conclusion on my own.”

“I haven’t picked up a sword since the day Norbleen died,” Dorgen said softly. “I’m surprised I even remember the movements.”

Camtan turned to regard him. Dorgen had taken up the third stance, he was holding it perfectly.

“Why not?” Camtan asked. “I mean, everyone fought in the war, didn’t they?”

“Some of us were forced to fight on the wrong side,” Dorgen said, slowly beginning the moves of the third exercise. “I fought my brother, Cammie, I fought him and I killed him, because Thanos made me. I will never forget the guilt of it, or the pain. I’m telling you this because I suspect that you believe that I don’t really know how you feel. Musleen was my brother, but he was also your best friend, your protector as you grew up, the one you looked up to, more so than me, certainly. But I *do* know what that feels like, I know how angry you can feel, and how helpless. I don’t blame you for killing Woalfen; in battle, who knows what advantage an opponent might be hiding. I am *worried* about you because you have grown increasingly reckless over the years, to the point that you disregarded your own safety in your pursuit of revenge. Look me in the eyes and tell me that you did the right thing.”

He completed the final movement and straightened, staring into Camtan’s eyes and holding his gaze as though daring him to look away.

Camtan broke first, looking down at his feet.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I… understand what you’re saying.”

“I want you to talk to someone, a healer,” Dorgen said. “I can find someone for you if you wish.”

“No, I know someone,” Camtan admitted. “I was seeing someone before Fomalen’s coup, I’ll see if she’s still around.”

“You were seeing a mind-healer?” Dorgen asked, surprised. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wasn’t relevant,” Camtan said. He saw Dorgen’s incredulous look and started forwards. “It wasn’t! I wasn’t having problems with impulse control, I…”

He stopped.

“You..?” Dorgen prompted quietly.

“I didn’t want to end up like my father,” Camtan admitted. “When I was younger one of the old Lords said I was just like he was as a child; I cried for three hours. I told Sofftia before we got married that I didn’t want any children because I was afraid I wouldn’t know how to raise them so they didn’t turn out like monsters. I only changed my mind after a century of watching her interact with her own father.”

“Whoever that Lord was, he was an idiot,” Dorgen said quietly. “If you know someone then I won’t push you, but I do think you need to take some time to… unravel? We’ve all been under a lot of strain for decades now. There will be ramifications from that. What I don’t want is to see you destroy yourself as a result.”

Camtan nodded slowly in understanding. “I’ll try and find her this afternoon,” he promised.

Dorgen nodded. “Good. Now, as for your punishment: Desertion during battle for personal crusades is a serious offense that is normally punished with forced labour – cleaning the stables for a few decades for example – I think, instead, you can clean Fomalen’s things out of my chambers, ask Loki when he’s free to check everything first to see if there’s any kind of security or traps that need to be removed, but you have to pack it all yourself.”

Camtan nodded again. “Yes Sire,” he said. “Dorgen?”

“Yes?”

“What was Norbleen like?”

Dorgen took a slow breath. He had not spoken of his older brother in over a thousand years, and yet he had invited this line of questioning when he’d decided to tell Camtan what happened.

“He was… light, and happy. He made you feel like a better person just by speaking to you. He was very just and quite thoughtful, a good fighter, especially with a sword, charming, very charming. He tried to treat everyone fairly and never left anyone behind.” Dorgen stopped and looked at his brother, at Camtan’s blond hair and blue eyes lit up by the sunlight. “To be honest he was a lot like you,” he added.


	68. Sixty Seven Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maturity and Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very long time ago I said that Loki wouldn't discover that he was Jotun in this story...
> 
> Eh.

Two weeks after Fomalen’s defeat Musleen still lay silently sleeping. The palace was running smoothly again, mostly due to the combined efforts of Mulmyr and Frigga while Dorgen handled the upcoming trials. He had placed the ruby, still glowing with absorbed power, into the vault besides the emerald which sat there looking, in his opinion, rather menacing. The first of the trials were due to go ahead in three more days and he was not looking forward to it. The first of the men to be tried were the lowest of the lackeys, men who had no great loyalty toward Fomalen and merely took a job as a guard because it paid. Some of them had already expressed shock that Dorgen was alive. It was his job to figure out whether they were telling the truth in that regard. He wished Musleen would wake up already; there was no one he knew better for reading a person’s guilt or innocence. 

But no. He would have to do this alone.

For a moment Dorgen regarded the glowing ruby and the dull emerald in front of him. Then, very deliberately, he picked them both up and pushed them together, the zig-zag pattern they both made interlocked perfectly, and the glow from the ruby began to swirl and shift into the emerald, casting the small vault with an eerie green glow.

Dorgen put the gems down hastily. The family stories were indeed true, and as a king with seidr he would be able to use the mighty weapon currently in his grasp. 

In that moment he was overwhelmingly glad that Lyrren lacked seidr, as he would never be forced to face the temptation that the emerald represented.

****

Outside, a welcome carriage arrived at the palace, travelling up the roadway and into the courtyard inside the main gate.

Lord Fallconyr and Lord Eadgleyr stepped out of their coach as Loki flew down the steps to meet them. It was a newer and lower coach than the last time he’d seen them travel, which made it easier for them to get in and out.

Loki pushed the reminder of their age to the back of his mind as he hugged them both tightly.

“Loki, darling, you look well,” Lord Eadgleyr said, appraising him critically. “No lasting injuries from the fighting?”

“No, Grandmother, none,” Loki said. He still had a few bruises from Fomalen’s blows but it was nothing a warrior would mention. “Mother is upstairs, and Haewkyr is escorting his boyfriend on his daily walk around the healer’s gardens.”

“Haewkyr has a boyfriend? It’s about time,” Lord Fallconyr said with a twinkle in his eye. “Who is it? Shall I approve or disapprove of this new man?”

Loki shrugged. In truth he’d been too busy trying to find a cure for Musleen’s sleep to pay too close attention to what Haewkyr was doing with his days. 

“I’m not sure if they’re official yet,” he added as he escorted his grandparents into the palace. “But he’s down there every day, and Smairken doesn’t seem to mind that much, according to his father.”

“This would be Sir Smairken? Spy of the resistance?” Lord Fallconyr asked.

Loki hesitated, then nodded. His own history with Smairken had been less than impressive, but if Smairken had turned over a new leaf then who was he to try and stop it?

“The same Sir Smairken who told you he’d like to give the person who poisoned the entire royal family a medal?” Lord Eadgleyr added. “I did *read* the letters you sent to me while on Progress you know,” he added teasingly.

“He’s changed a bit,” Loki said. “At least, so I’ve been told, we haven’t actually spoken.”

“I for one trust Haewkyr’s judgement. If he likes the man then there must be something to like,” Lord Fallconyr said. “Now, where is Lord Kinndyr? I need to glare at him disapprovingly for trying to woo my little girl.”

Loki laughed in spite of himself. His grandfather always made him feel better, even in the worst of circumstances.

“Mother will be able to tell you where he is,” he said. “She’ll be down to see you soon I’m sure. For now though I escort you to your chambers. But I can’t stay too long; I have to get back to the library at the Tower.”

“Why is that, Loki, what are you planning?” Lord Eadgleyr asked.

Loki shook his head. “I’m not planning anything,” he said. “But there’s been a development that no one saw coming. I’m needed, *all* powerful mages are needed, but we’re having no luck.”

“Are you allowed to tell us what the development is?” Lord Eadgleyr asked.

Loki nodded, but didn’t say anything until they were in their chambers. Once inside he told them everything.

“Prince Musleen is *alive*? He was felled by a knife to the chest! I was certain that he was killed,” Lord Fallconyr exclaimed.

“So far we’ve detected elements of a powerful healing spell, a powerful sleeping spell, and a powerful preservation spell, but they’re all mixed up together and we can’t work out how they’re staying cast on him. The cleansing draughts we’ve used so far are the most powerful in Vanaheim, perhaps in the nine realms. The worst part is that they seem to work at first, he stirs, his eyes move beneath his eyelids, but then the spell returns and he lies exactly as before. Dorgen is almost prepared to remove him from the palace entirely, in case the spell is somehow woven into the very walls,” Loki said. 

“Where will they take him?” Lord Eadgleyr asked.

“The Tower, most likely,” Loki said. “It’s a good place for him to be while we try and break the spell.”

“The sleeping prince in the tall Tower,” Lord Fallconyr mused. “I’m sure I’ve heard a story like that before.”

“Brynhildr, who slept in a ring of fire until a warrior could cross them and wake and then marry her,” Lord Eadgleyr said. “A fanciful tale with no basis in fact. Do you know that the most recent retelling has named Odin as the reason she sleeps? I first heard that tale when the Allfather was no more than a subclause on his father’s marriage contract.”

“We’re hoping that Musleen won’t become the living embodiment of the tale,” Loki said. “But so far we’ve not had much luck.”

“How is Daenceia coping?” Lord Fallconyr asked.

“Badly,” Loki said. “With each passing day she loses a little more hope. It’s devastating to see, and she won’t leave his side, not even for a breath of fresh air. She’s starting to look ill.”

“Where are her parents?” Lord Eadgleyr asked. “They should be here taking care of her. No one should face such uncertainty involving their beloved alone.”

“Her parents have visited,” Loki said carefully, “but they won’t stay in the palace. They are dancers by trade and I’m afraid the finery of it all is intimidating.”

“Nonsense, nothing but carved stone and a little marble, it comes from the same place you get clay and dirt,” Lord Eadgleyr said contemptuously. “They should not let such things prevent them from supporting their daughter. If they won’t come back I shall find them and have a word.”

“He’ll do it, you know,” Lord Fallconyr said to Loki. “He’ll tell them right off, he once made a man cry with nothing but scathing wit and a stern look.”

“I’ll see if I can speak to them,” Loki said. “Or perhaps I can convince Daenceia to. They do love her; they just don’t understand how she can be so at ease among the nobles and royals.”

“Because she doesn’t care about their titles and they shouldn’t either,” Lord Eadgleyr said firmly. “You tell me if they won’t come to the palace, Loki, promise me.”

“I promise,” Loki said. He checked over his shoulder at the door. Frigga had been told that her parents had arrived, but she was also busy with organising Fomalen’s guards into groups for the trials based on their duties. If they didn’t face court together then the trials would drag on for decades. Chances are she wouldn’t be here for a little while yet.

“Loki? What’s wrong?” Lord Eadgleyr asked him.

Loki turned back to face them. He’d been wanted to ask them something for a while, several decades now actually. Before with Fomalen there wasn’t time, but now there was nothing stopping him, nothing but nerves. In his chest, his heart clenched up painfully.

“I… I need to ask you something,” he said, looking from one to the other carefully. “I need to know… when I was travelling, I discovered some things… I… I… did you know I was adopted?”

There. It was done. Spoken aloud.

There was a horrible silence in the room, broken only by the sound of a clock ticking on the mantelpiece.

Lord Fallconyr was the first to move. He blinked hard and rose from his chair. Before Loki could react he closed the gap between them, pulled Loki to his feet and into a tight hug.

“No,” he said in Loki’s ear. “I did not. But I also don’t care. You are my grandson, you are the child of my daughter and a child of my heart. I take it from your question that you didn’t know before?”

Over his shoulder, Loki saw Lord Eadgleyr rise with an expression of fury on his face.

“N-n-no,” Loki stuttered slightly, watching Lord Eadgleyr with concern. “I found out on my travels.”

“All alone? Oh Loki, were you all right?” Lord Fallconyr asked him.

“I was upset,” Loki said as Lord Eadgleyr clenched his hands into fists. “I shouted and screamed and, err, flattened a mountain range. King Laufey was not happy about that.”

“King Laufey! You were on Jotunheim?!” Lord Fallconyr exclaimed, pulling back slightly to look him over, as if expecting to see signs of damage still present decades later.

“I was,” Loki said nervously. “I… well… it turns out… I’m his son, his runt son that he left out to die, and he almost finished the job when he realised who I was. I had to get out of there pretty darn quickly.”

There was a new moment of stillness; it was the silence of a certain amount of long-held thoughts being rearranged.

“No wonder you were so good at ice-magic,” Lord Fallconyr said at last. “Natural skill! Can you grow ice like they can? Because that would be useful in a lab setting; I’m forever having to get ice out of the chill-box.”

“Grandfather!” Loki exclaimed, fighting the urge to laugh that bubbled up inside of him. It was partially in relief and partially the speculative look in his grandfather’s eye.

“What? Should I be upset about this revelation? Should I try to find a downside? My grandchildren are all incredibly talented and intelligent individuals, due, of course, to my influence. I am delighted to hear if you have acquired a new skill,” Lord Fallconyr said. He pulled Loki into another hug. “And I will always love you, my boy, *always*.”

Loki blinked back the tears in his eyes. He’d been dreading this moment for so long. To think he’d actually been *afraid* of his grandparent’s reaction. Although his grandmother still hadn’t said anything.

“Grandmother?” Loki asked tentatively.

Lord Fallcoynr turned around to look at his wife, who was still looking furious.

“I’m going to kill them both,” Lord Eadgleyr said. “I’m going to stab Laufey dead for being a callous bastard, then I’m going to make a knife from his leg bone, I’ll sharpen it until it can cut through armour, then I’m going to stab Odin until I run out of breath, _then_ I’m going to have a nap, maybe something to eat, before I stab him all over again. I can’t *believe* that he would take you into his home, *lie* to you about it, and then send you out here to marry a monster! I WILL DESTROY HIM!”

Lord Fallconyr shot Loki an awkward grin. “Please forgive my wife,” he said as if Loki had never met Lord Eadgleyr before. “He’s a bit emotional when it comes to his babies.”

He let go of Loki and pulled Lord Eadgleyr into a hug instead. “Calm down, my love, calm down,” he said.

Lord Eadgleyr scowled deeply. “Every king I’ve ever met, bar one, is a giant arsehole,” he said, making Loki bite the inside of his mouth to keep from laughing. “I swear to you, if Dorgen even *thinks* of *looking* like he’s going to turn out the same way I will punch him in the face.”

“Grandmother, please,” Loki said, slightly alarmed. “Dorgen would never, and *Thor* would never, the worlds are changing, there is no need for violence.”

Lord Eadgley pulled him in towards them both for a hug. “Why do my babies have to be so hurt in order for the world to change?” he asked. “Answer me that, Loki darling, answer me that.”

There was a knock on the door and Frigga poked her head around it.

“I heard you were here,” she said with a smile.

The smile faltered as she took in the expressions on her parents’ faces.

“It’s all right,” Loki said quickly. “Mother? We need to have a serious discussion… about Jotunheim and King Laufey.”

Frigga paled, her mouth opened slightly in shock. “Loki I…” she started but trailed off.

Loki stepped away from his grandparents and crossed the room to where she stood.

“I learnt many things on my travels, mother, and I got very angry and very sad,” he said. “I felt betrayed and hurt and lost and even a little insane, but I also had time to think things through, and I decided that, though you kept the truth of my birth from me, it was almost certainly Odin’s will, and we both know how strong his will can be. So answer me this: Do you love me?”

“With all my heart,” Frigga said immediately as tears began to run down her face. “Loki you are my son, you are *my* child, from the moment you were placed in my arms, I’m so sorry, I could never work out the right way to tell you, especially after everything else you’d been through. Please forgive me, please believe me, I will always love you.”

Loki hugged her. “I do forgive you,” he said. “I already did. Both of my fathers aren’t exactly great men, but luckily my grandparents *are* and they taught me not to deny my family for their mistakes.”

Frigga hugged him hard, Loki returned it. Lord Eadgleyr almost said something but, for the fourth time ever in their millennia-long marriage, Lord Fallconyr hushed him, and for the second time ever in their millennia-long marriage, he chose to obey.

“Do you want me to tell Thor?” Frigga asked as they broke apart. “The travel restrictions have been lifted and I was hoping to go and see him soon.”

“He already knows,” Loki said, enjoying the look of shock on her face that she hastily tried to hide. “I wrote to him years ago when I first discovered the truth. He managed to leave me a reply at one of my more frequent haunts, instructing me to be careful when visiting desert worlds and to take extra water. He also sent me a cloak spelled to keep the wearer cool.”

“He… he did? He used to hate the Jotnir when he was a child, I worried that…” Frigga trailed off.

“That he’d reject me?” Loki finished. “Do you know that never occurred to me? I suppose, when after everything I’d been through wasn’t enough to send him running, I just assumed that he would accept this too.”

“Some people might not be as accepting,” Lord Fallconyr said gently. “Not any of us, or they’ll feel the flat of my hand, but others, people who don’t know you.”

“I know,” Loki said. “I’ve thought about that too. I’ve had years to get used to the idea. Honestly, I don’t *feel* Jotun, I don’t feel like a creature of ice or cold, in all honesty I just feel like me.” He held out his pink hands. “I feel like this, so I suppose, apart from my family, I don’t really need to tell anyone else. I don’t mean to keep it a secret, I just don’t feel the need to *announce* it in any way.”

Lord Eadgleyr came up and gave him a hug. “You do what feels right, Loki,” he said. “But I’m still going to stab Odin if I get the chance, all right?”

Loki grinned. “Oh all right then,” he said, rolling his eyes.

****

It was getting close to a month since the defeat of Fomalen and the ‘purity’ potion, as the harsh cleansing spell was called, was almost ready. Nothing else had worked and the mood of the palace was grim and subdued.

There had been no victory celebrations, only a long list of trials that Dorgen and Mulmyr presided over, dressed in their finery and with hard expressions on their faces. Dorgen wore the green emerald in his crown, and Loki wondered, as he sat in the gallery, whether the King was using it to read the guilt of the men in the courtroom.

In that moment Dorgen turned his head and locked eyes with Loki. He nodded once, before turning back to the men on trial in front of him.

Well that was creepy. 

At the same time though it gave Loki a little comfort. The men before the king were less likely to be able to fool him with tales of ignorance this way.

It was still creepy.

Loki left at the end of the trial. There were three more to go but he wanted to get back to his studies. He didn’t want to use the purity potion on Musleen. The side effects were terrible if they occurred and he was still desperately hoping for an answer somewhere.

He arrived back at the Tower and headed up to the healer’s library. The main focus had become Musleen’s mind, as everything else had been changed, cleansed or otherwise checked for Fomalen’s spell. The poor man’s skin had been scrubbed with about twenty different oils and herbs in an effort to find and remove any trace of a spell there, but nothing had been found.

Smairken was sitting by the window, leafing through a massive tome. They nodded to one another as Loki passed but did not otherwise speak. The first day Smairken had appeared at the Tower to help, he’d insisted that he was in it purely for the intellectual exercise. Loki had welcomed him regardless, as another set of eyes and a keen mind could only be a good thing, but still they had made no progress.

That evening Dorgen sent a message to Loki asking him to attend dinner. Dorgen sat with Mulmyr on one side and Lyrren and Occtir on the other. Around the table sat Loki, Camtan, Daenceia, Horrseen, Haewkyr and Thainia.

“Horrseen told me today that the purity potion has finished brewing,” Dorgen said as they pretended to care about the food placed before them. Daenceia swallowed nervously. Camtan looked pale. “We have not had any luck breaking the spell so far,” Dorgen continued. “Unless there is something else to report?”

He did not sound hopeful.

“No, your Majesty,” Horrseen said, sounding deflated. “No one has been able to determine how the spell remains intact.”

“Very well,” Dorgen said. “I did not want to do this, I was hoping for another solution, but-“

“You can’t use the potion yet,” Camtan interrupted. “It could destroy his mind! We have to keep trying!”

Dorgen gave his little brother a reassuring smile. “I wasn’t going to suggest the potion just yet, it can be stored. No, unfortunately I have to try another avenue. I shall have to talk to Fomalen.”

Loki wasn’t all that surprised. He knew Dorgen wouldn’t abandon the idea of speaking to Fomalen, it had always been a backup plan of sorts, although how effective it would prove to be no one knew.

“I want to be there,” Camtan said.

Dorgen nodded. “Very well, we’ll go after dinner and speak to him; hopefully he’s had enough time to reflect on his new situation.”

“I want to go too,” Daenceia said.

“No,” Mulmyr said. “That man is a monster who will torment you just for fun. He may choose not to help us simply to see the look on your face. It’s better if you stay up here with me.”

“Besides,” Loki added. “We all know that you’ll beat him to a bloody pulp if he tries that, how can he tell us the way to lift the spell if you break his jaw?”

Daenceia looked as though she wanted to argue, but then slumped in her chair again. “Fine,” she said. “Can Loki go?”

“Yes,” Dorgen said. “I was going to ask you anyway,” he added to Loki. “You are more powerful than Fomalen, he may find you intimidating.”

Loki nodded. “Very well,” he said. He reached out and took Daenceia’s hand across the table. “Don’t give up hope,” he said. “We *will* find a way.” 

****

They headed down to the dungeons soon afterwards, no one really felt like finishing dinner. They reached the cells began walking through to the high-level security area. Loki looked around as they walked. Over five hundred men were imprisoned in the cells, about half had been investigated and their crimes appropriately responded to. It was only going to take longer as time went on and the magnitude of the crimes committed increased.

But that was not their concern at the moment, the three men walked past the cells without looking, ignoring the pleas of some of the men inside. The walked through until they came to where Fomalen sat, all alone, wearing a prison uniform consisting of a single plain robe. He looked scruffy and unkempt. 

He looked up at them and smirked.

“Why cousin! How good to see you. I’ll have a steak, rare, with seasonal vegetables and some light red wine, off you go to the kitchens,” he said in a mocking tone.

Dorgen stopped outside the cell and laced his hands behind his back. He projected none of the anxiety he must be feeling, instead only the calmness of a true king radiated from his features.

“Fomalen, you have committed grave crimes against the realm,” he said. “You will face trial and punishment for what you have done.”

Fomalen smirked again. “So it seems,” he said. “You fought well, cousin, I honestly didn’t think you had it in you,” he glanced sideways at Loki. “Actually, I still don’t, but you made a powerful friend who is in *no way* going to betray you if you ever do anything to upset him.”

“No,” Dorgen said with quiet confidence, “he won’t. We are here for a purpose, Fomalen, we’ve found Musleen.”

Fomalen took a deep breath. “And it took you so long? Cousin I’m surprised, I thought you would be in a rush to check on your jewellery, instead it took you almost a month! Tell me, how did my brother take the loss of his sweetheart?”

“Woalfen’s dead,” snapped Camtan.

For the first time Fomalen’s mask faltered slightly, but it was so fast Loki almost wondered if he’d imagined it.

“Oh well,” Fomalen said breezily. “He always was a bit weird, so no great loss. Did he die heroically protecting what he loved?”

“He died like a coward,” Camtan snapped. Dorgen reached out and put a restraining hand on his arm, which did not go unnoticed by Fomalen.

“Oh *you* killed him,” he said, sounding gleeful. “Poor little baby had a temper tantrum and killed someone. What *will* your brother think of you? Oh wait, you’ll never know, because he’ll never wake.”

“And why do you say that, Fomalen?” Loki asked, stepping forward and trying to keep his tone calm. Behind him Dorgen gave Camtan’s arm a hard squeeze in warning. Camtan looked livid.

Fomalen grinned unnervingly. “Oh please, that curse can never be lifted; he’ll sleep his whole life away. You’ll wither and die, the realm will rise and fall, mortals will become the dominant power in the universe, and still Musleen will sleep on. Just put him in a tower somewhere and give him the occasional dusting, there’s really nothing more you can do.”

“You’re lying,” Loki said. “All spells can be broken, all seidr can be unwound. Tell us what you did.”

Fomalen smiled like a snake, self-satisfaction radiated off him like strong perfume. “There *may* be a way to wake him,” he said. “But it comes at a price.”

“Naturally,” Loki said. “What do you want?”

Fomalen’s eyes flickered to Camtan for a moment before returning to Loki. “I want my life of course,” he said. “Bind my magic and banish me somewhere, Asgard, or Midgard maybe, I’ll never set foot on Vanaheim again.”

Loki turned to Dorgen. “I’m sure we can come up with something that’ll lock his magic down,” he said. 

Dorgen took a deep breath and stepped slightly closer to the cell bars.

“No,” he said.

Fomalen frowned in confusion. “No?” he repeated.

“No, I will not negotiate with you. You are a criminal who is responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people, maybe even thousands. You usurped the throne, attacked the royal family and you murdered innocent mages on the sole basis that they were commoners without a family to protect them. When the charges have been tallied and put in proper order, you will face trial and, if found guilty-“

“-if!” interjected Camtan.

“-then you will be punished to the fullest extent,” finished Dorgen. “I will not stoop to your level. I will not put the life of one man ahead of the lives of all those you killed, not even if that man is my brother. The royal family is no more important than the rest of Vanaheim’s citizens, and they deserve to know that, they deserve justice. You may choose to help us lift your spell, but I will not set you free for it, Musleen would never forgive me.”

With that he turned and walked away without looking back, leaving Camtan and Loki standing startled behind him.

Fomalen’s face turned ugly. “Get used to life without him then!” he shouted. “Because without me Sleeping Beauty will _never_ wake, _never_.”

Loki wanted to follow Dorgen, but he didn’t want to leave Camtan alone with Fomalen, not given the ugly look on his face.

“Let’s go,” Loki said. “Camtan, he’s made his choice, let’s go.”

Fomalen’s eyes turned back to Camtan; he looked vicious. “You’ll have to tell your children to tell their children, to tell *their* children to take good care of their Uncle Musleen,” he said.

Camtan turned and started walking.

“Unless you let me leave,” Fomalen called out. “Then I’ll tell you how to wake him up!”

The muscles in Camtan’s back stiffened but he didn’t stop walking, for which Loki was grateful.

“He wouldn’t hold true to his side of the bargain,” Loki assured Camtan as they walked up the stairs into the light of the ground floor. “He’d run like a coward and leave Musleen as he is.”

Camtan nodded. “I know,” he said in a harsh sounding voice. “He’s a monster; he deserves his fate.”

“We’ll find a way to wake Musleen,” Loki said, for what felt like the millionth time. He felt like a liar saying it too.

“I know,” Camtan said. “I- what?”

Loki had stopped walking. He was frowning in concentration.

“What did Fomalen call Musleen?” he said.

Camtan screwed his forehead up trying to remember.

“Sleeping Beauty,” he said.

Loki’s eyes went huge. “The book,” he said. “In Fomalen’s bookcase, his book!”

“Yes, I’ve been meaning to ask you to take a look over his things for me but you’ve been better occupied trying to wake Musleen-“ Camtan began, only to break off as Loki ran away. “Hey!”

Loki ran back to the king’s chambers, to where Fomalen’s things still lay on the shelves.

“I thought the servants would have packed this stuff away by now,” he panted lightly as Camtan caught him up.

“That’s what I was trying to say,” Camtan said as Loki began scanning the shelves. “Dorgen told me to do it, but I have to get you to check- what are you doing?”

“This book, this one here, I saw it earlier when we first discovered Musleen,” Loki said, holding out the book by Perrault. “Look at the first story.”

Camtan looked at the page and his eyes widened. “The Sleeping Beauty,” he exclaimed. “Is it possible that Fomalen took inspiration from the story?”

Loki flicked through the pages, scanning the story quickly. “I don’t know,” he said. “He may have just been drawing a cruel parallel, but if we don’t try then I’ll always wonder.”

“We have nothing to lose,” Camtan said.

Loki read the final page. His eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Apparantly the beauty in this story was woken by the kiss of a prince, her true love I suspect,” he said.

Camtan looked confused. “Can a spell be linked to something like that?” he asked.

“If it’s in his mind then it can,” Loki said, “although no one’s been able to locate any sign of the spell in his mind.”

“It can’t hurt to ask Daenceia to try, can it?” Camtan asked.

“At worst we get her hopes up, which the mages have been doing regularly since they started studying the spell,” Loki said. “Let’s ask her.”

They hurried to Musleen’s chambers, to where Daenceia continued her long vigil. She sighed when she saw them.

“His Majesty told me what Fomalen said. I respect his decision not to negotiate, Musleen wouldn’t want him to,” she said. “He wouldn’t want me to be here wasting away by his side either but I’m too much of a bloody fool to do otherwise. I feel like such a weakling and yet I can’t pull away.”

“Kiss him,” Camtan said. “On the lips,” he added.

The look of confusion on Daenceia’s face would have been hilarious had it not been such a serious moment. Loki took a few extra minutes to explain what Fomalen had said and what the solution was, as presented by the book.

“It can’t hurt to try,” she said doubtfully. “I mean, I already kissed his forehead, but his lips just seemed a bit intimate considering he’s unconscious.”

“Maybe that’s what Fomalen was relying on,” Camtan said with hope in his voice.

Daenceia leaned over and gently pressed her lips against Musleen’s. Camtan leaned forwards. Loki held his breath.

Nothing happened.


	69. Sixty Eight Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feeling Discouraged

“It was a long shot, let’s be honest,” Camtan said as he sat on the viewing stands around the training yard. He and Loki had gone out there after Musleen had failed to wake up.

“I’m just glad Fomalen doesn’t know that we tried it,” Loki said. “He’d have quite the laugh if he knew.”

“I’d love to beat him to a bloody pulp, but I have to be better than that. I don’t _want_ to be better than that, but I have to be,” Camtan said glumly.

“I was so sure,” Loki said softly. “The tone of his voice, the way he… named him like that.

“Maybe he was just being spiteful,” Camtan suggested.

“I’m sorry to get your hopes up,” Loki said.

Camtan shrugged. “I’ll try anything Loki, the more we try the closer we’ll get to the answer.” 

There was a long silence.

“I don’t suppose you’d care to give it a go?” Camtan suggested.

“Me?!” Loki exclaimed.

“It was a prince in the story, you’re a prince, it’s just the sort of thing he’d do, let’s be honest,” Camtan said, shrugging his shoulders.

Loki thought about it. “Truuuue,” he conceded slowly. “I can’t say I’m comfortable with the idea, I mean, he’s unconscious.”

“That would be the problem we’re trying to fix though, I mean, if he was awake then I wouldn’t be suggesting it,” Camtan pointed out practically.

“It could just as easily be Mulmyr,” Loki said. “After all, the dagger wasn’t meant for him.”

“I’m starting to think that half the population of Vanaheim has to kiss him and he’ll still never wake up,” Camtan said, rubbing his hand across his face.

“There are two ways to break any spell, complete the finishing clause, by an action like a kiss or by saying a certain set of words, or the other method, by breaking the spell’s structure, like with a cleansing draught or by removing the runes used to cast it, if there were runes of course,” Loki said.

“Would this spell have runes?” Camtan asked.

“Normally yes, but I’ll be damned if I know where they are,” Loki said. “That’s why the mages think it’s been crossed with a sleeping spell, they *don’t* need runes as they are cast directly on the mind.” 

“Speaking of spells, Dorgen has instructed me to pack up Fomalen’s things,” Camtan said. “I have to do it alone but he wants you to look over the stuff first in case there are any traps or spells that need to be neutralised.”

“I can do that,” Loki said. “I’ll do it today if you like.”

“Thanks, I want to get it over with. He’s got a lot of stuff in there, it’s going to take me a few weeks to clear it all,” Camtan said.

“Do you get to burn any of it?” Loki asked.

“Not officially,” Camtan said. “But if I offer to cook you a steak over an open fire, don’t ask me where I got the fuel.”

Loki grinned, lightning fast. Camtan’s answering smile was smaller, but it was still good to see him capable of it.

“Haewkyr sent the message to Sofftia that it was safe to come home just over a month ago,” Camtan said. “It’ll take her another two weeks to be here. She sent me a letter from the road via bird carrier.”

“You know,” Loki offered with a smile. “I could go and get her by portal?”

Camtan froze, looking at him in a mixture of surprise and excitement. “You could? You will?” he asked.

Loki nodded. “I should have thought of it sooner, but I was busy with Musleen,” he said. “I’ll go as soon as I can, if Dorgen gives his permission.”

Camtan was on his feet so fast he actually caused a soft breeze to blow past Loki’s shoulder.

“Let’s find him,” he said, “please.”

Loki rose and they headed inside to find Dorgen.

****

Dorgen was in his workroom with Lyrren and Occtir, trying to manage the chaos left behind by Fomalen’s rule.

“This is a nightmare,” he muttered as Camtan and Loki slipped into the room. “We have seventy times the number of weapons we need now that we’ve seized Fomalen’s assets.”

“Maybe we can sell them to Asgard?” Occtir suggested.

“We could melt down the solid stuff, turn them into something else,” Lyrren said.

Dorgen looked up when Camtan coughed. “Brother, Loki, what are you two doing here?” he asked, looking at his brother in slight apprehension. But then, less than an hour ago he had turned down Fomalen’s offer of negotiation, and there was no telling how Camtan was choosing to react. 

“Hello, brother,” Camtan said. “We’ve come to ask your permission to travel within the realm by portal. Loki has offered to fetch Sofftia and the children.”

Dorgen smiled. “Of course you can,” he said. “I’d love to see them sooner. You can go as soon as you’re ready.”

Loki grinned. “I’m good to go now; I just need to know where they actually are.”

“They were heading across the High Mountains when she last wrote,” Camtan said. “We could ask Haewkyr to send a bird to locate them on the road, maybe send them another message so that they can say exactly where they are.”

He was bouncing on his feet; the look of happiness on his face was infectious. At the table, Dorgen looked relieved. “Go and find Haewkyr then,” he said with a laugh in his voice. “With luck they’ll be home in three days, maybe less.”

Camtan actually ran from the room, leaving Loki to trail after him. 

“Hold on! You don’t even know where Haewkyr is,” he called out at Camtan’s back.

“Yes I do,” Camtan said without slowing. “It’s evening; he’ll be in Smairken’s chambers, making looooovy eyes at him.”

Loki laughed as he managed to catch Camtan up. They crossed the remaining distance to Smairken’s chambers at a brisk walk and, when they arrived, Camtan rapped on the door excitedly.

It was opened by Smairken, who looked surprised to see them.

“We’re here to see Haewkyr,” Camtan said.

“Is this a thing that is going to happen often from now on?” Smairken commented bluntly.

“Probably,” Loki said with a grin.

Smairken gave a put-upon sigh and slowly opened the door to let them enter. Haewkyr was nowhere to be seen.

“Wait here, I’ll fetch him,” Smairken said, stalking across to the bedroom door and going through.

Loki and Camtan exchanged glances. Camtan gave Loki a thumbs-up.

A few minutes later Haewkyr emerged wearing a dressing gown that was too small for him.

“Gentlemen,” he greeted them both with a grin.

“Stop grinning,” called Smairken’s voice from the bedroom.

“No!” Haewkyr called back. 

“Sorry to interrupt you,” Camtan said. “We didn’t know you’d, uh,”

“Progressed?” Haewkyr suggested. “I was comfortably tied to the bed I’ll have you know,” he winked at Loki. “But enough about me, what were you after?”

“We were hoping you’d send a messenger bird to Sofftia to ask her exact location,” Loki said. “I have permission to bring her and the others home via portal.”

Haewkyr tilted his head to the side for a moment. “There’s a crow looking for a nice long flight, hold on, I’ll let him in,” he said, crossing to the window.

“Is this going to take long?” Smairken asked, reappearing at the bedroom door.

“Just a moment, Mangy-Crow, I have a note to send, I’m reuniting families here,” Haewkyr said.

“Did you seriously just call me a mangy crow?” Smairken said, looking annoyed.

Haewkyr turned and blew him a kiss. “Gonna bite me?” he asked teasingly.

“You can stop that,” Loki said. “At least until we’ve gone.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Haewkyr said, carrying the crow to the table and taking up a pen. “Now, you just want to know where they are, are map co-ordinates all right?”

“Yes, I can work it out from there,” Loki said. “How long will it take to reach them?”

The crow cawed loudly.

“You’ve insulted him,” Haewkyr said. “He thinks you’re challenging his abilities.”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Loki protested to the crow, which was giving him a dirty look.

“Three days before we get an answer, more or less,” Haewkyr said, rolling the paper up and handing it to the crow, who took it in its beak.

“We could go to Lord Fetatheren’s and wait for the reply there,” Camtan suggested. “The crow won’t have as far to fly.”

The crow cawed loudly and pooped on the table.

“Do you want him to do this or not?” Haewkyr asked. He carried it back to the window and it took off in a flurry of black wings.

“Good, it’s gone; can you two go as well?” Smairken said from the doorway. “I have consented to this madman’s interest out of sheer curiosity and these distractions are not encouraging.”

Loki and Camtan turned to go, but not before Haewkyr gave them both a wink.

“Go on you two, go to bed and sleep the hours away, that’ll make the crow’s return all the faster,” he said.

Camtan sighed heavily, but he nodded his consent and turned to go.

“Three days isn’t so long,” Loki said as they walked out into the corridor. “It’s faster than two weeks.”

“True,” Camtan said. “I suppose I could get started on Fomalen’s things, it’ll keep me busy at least.”

“I’ll check everything tomorrow morning,” Loki promised. “I’ll help you as well if you like.”

“You can’t, Dorgen, uh, well, it’s my punishment,” Camtan admitted, “for deserting my post during the battle for the palace.”

“Ah, I was wondering whether he’d acknowledge that,” Loki said.

“Yes, well, he had a point; I didn’t think things through,” Camtan said. “So now I have to pack up all of Fomalen’s stuff on my own. I already commissioned the storage boxes, they arrived last week.”

“So it is all to be stored?” Loki questioned.

“ _And_ catalogued,” Camtan said in a whiny tone. “Honestly I’m going to be _so bored_.”

“Maybe I can keep you company? I won’t help, but Fomalen has a number of seidr books that I’d like to look through. I’ve already had a look through trying to find his working notes but there was nothing. Maybe he drew in the margins, or kept his notes tucked into the pages,” Loki said.

“Works for me; It’s going to take weeks to gather it all up. I think the seidr books will be sent to the Tower anyway, but you can have a look through them first if you want to,” Camtan said.

“Tomorrow, I’ll meet you there after breakfast,” Loki promised as they reached the point at which their paths diverged.

“Are you still up in the guest quarters?” Camtan asked.

“Yes, Mother, Grandfather and Grandmother have taken over a suite up there,” Loki said. “It’s a nice set of rooms.”

“As long as you’re comfortable,” Camtan said. 

“Are you back in your rooms yet?” Loki asked.

Camtan nodded. “They’d been taken over by one of Fomalen’s supporters, but I threw all their stuff into a pile in the centre of the room. The servants took it all away a few days ago. I have no idea where it ended up.”

“What about your things?” Loki asked, curiously. “After the takeover, do you know what happened to them?”

Camtan shook his head. “Shared out to anyone who wanted them I suppose,” he said. “I haven’t seen anything I recognise, although apart from one or two things there wasn’t much that can’t be easily replaced.”

“I’m glad to hear it, goodnight, Camtan,” Loki said, heading off to his chambers.

“Goodnight, Loks,” Camtan replied.

Loki rolled his eyes. “Am I ever going to be rid of that?” he asked.

“No,” Camtan called out before he turned the corner and disappeared from sight.

****

The following morning Loki was eating breakfast with his grandmother while Frigga and Lord Fallconyr tried to make a list of all the things to remember while Frigga was away visiting Thor in Asgard.

“Leave them be,” Lord Eadgleyr advised Loki as he gestured to the untouched food on their plates. “Around lunchtime they’ll both realise how foolish they’ve been.”

Loki smiled at him and finished his toast. “I’m spending the day going through Fonalen’s books,” he said. “I’ve already searched for any private papers, and any seidr books he had that the Tower doesn’t have been taken and poured over already, but maybe I’ll find something in what remains.”

“It’s worth trying, have they made any progress at all on the spell?” Lord Eadgleyr asked.

Loki shook his head. “None, they can’t even figure out where the power is centred.”

“Now, Loki, I’m leaving in less than an hour, I’ve got your letters to Thor right here; was there anything else you wanted to give to him? Any message I can give?” Frigga asked. 

Loki felt a tug in his stomach at the mention of Thor. It had been so long since they’d seen one another that the thought of it made him nervous, and yet beneath that there was something else, some… feeling that he couldn’t describe. “No mother, I’ve said all I wish to in my letter,” he said, twisting the ring on his hand.

He’d figure out the feeling later when he had the time.

****

Loki sat in one of the sumptuous chairs in the king’s chambers and leafed through one of Fomalen’s books. The man had hundreds of them, although most were copies that were present at the Tower and not considered particularly rare or special. On the other side of the room, Camtan was methodically cataloguing the titles of the far shelf in preparation for packing them away.

There was nothing in the book; with a sigh Loki set it aside. Camtan saw the movement and looked up. “Are you bored yet?” he asked.

Loki shrugged. “Not quite yet, there’re a few hundred more volumes I need to flick through though.”

Camtan sighed and put down his pen. “I’m bored,” he said. “How long have I been doing this?”

“About half an hour,” Loki said. “Do you mind if I have a look in the bedroom? I might find something more interesting in there.”

Camtan waved a hand at the door. “Go ahead, I’ll just be sitting here, *cataloguing*.”

Loki headed through the door and stopped. 

This was it. This was the place of his torture, his humiliation, his madness. Loki looked around the room in a kind of a daze. He felt such a sense of wrongness, like the room wasn’t truly what it had used to be, while at the same time *looking* like it was supposed to be. 

Perhaps it was the furniture, which had changed drastically. Perhaps it was the lack of tapestries, which used to adorn the walls. Maybe it was… the ceiling had been painted over. The murals of frolicking naked nymphs were gone, replaced with clean lines that emphasised the delicate carvings and mouldings on the edges and around the chandelier. 

Loki looked the room over for a long time before he shook himself a little and turned away, towards the cabinets that lined one wall. They had not been there during the time of the king, and some of the cracks between the doors glowed with power.

Loki opened the first cabinet carefully and inspected what lay within. Seidr ingredients, herbs and jewels and tokens, nothing inherently dangerous in the state they were in.

The second cabinet contained a set of throwing knives. Loki picked one up carefully and balanced it in his hand. It was a good weight, excellently made. Loki wondered if he might be allowed to keep them, his own were getting blunt after so many years and it wasn’t worth restoring them the way he’d done for the two knives he had from Thor.

He picked up the other three and examined them. One of them was missing the tip of its blade, not much, just a tiny nick, but it still ruined the symmetry. Still, that could be repaired.

Loki moved on, opening the next cabinet and raising both eyebrows at what was inside. Documents, not magical, these were detailed accounts of each member of the royal family. The Vanir family tree was drawn on one scroll, clearly outlining the line of succession and with the words ‘abdicate’, ‘kill’, and ‘eliminate’ scrawled on it in what Loki assumed was Fomalen’s handwriting. 

The cabinets kept Loki occupied until lunchtime, when Camtan came and collected him.

“Hieddenyr’s brought sandwiches,” he said, sounding relieved. “There’s so much stuff in here!”

“It’s almost as though he’d been living here for forty years or more,” Loki joked.

Camtan moaned, sat down at the table and buried his head in his hands. “It’s horrible; it’s going to take me a month. I think I’d rather clean the stables,” he said.

“Which is precisely why Dorgen didn’t make you,” Loki pointed out.

“I’ll never leave my post again,” Camtan declared dramatically from beneath his folded arms.

Loki laughed and grabbed a sandwich. “You’ll get through it, did you find anything interesting while you were working?” he asked.

Camtan shook his head. “Not unless you count an interest in Midgardian literature,” he said. “There’s a heap of books here, dating back quite far.”

“He suggested Midgard as a possible banishment site,” Loki said. “Maybe he has a base set up there waiting for him, like a backup?”

“You can suggest the idea to Dorgen, we know he continued to portal in and out of Asgard during the quarantine, and without Heimdall detecting it, maybe he was using Midgard as a kind of halfway point?” Camtan said.

Loki nodded slowly. “I hope he hasn’t interfered in their lives to much,” he said. “That’s my job,” he added with a grin of reminiscence. 

“His trial isn’t for another month,” Camtan said. “Dorgen wants all the others taken care of and already punished before he faces court. Burtchen has been gathering as much information as he can so that they can charge him with everything.”

“Seems like overkill to me,” Loki said. “He’s going to be executed anyway for usurping the throne.”

“Not necessarily,” Camtan said. “The throne has been usurped before throughout our history by various siblings, due to infighting and, sometimes, incompetence by the current ruler of the day. Just *taking* the throne doesn’t automatically mean a death sentence, because all the successful ones weren’t killed. That’s precedent, and Fomalen *will* argue that.”

“That’s insane,” Loki said. “I mean, he *took the throne*, Dorgen is not incompetent, neither are any of you.”

“They have to break it down into his other crimes, attempting to kill us all for example is considered murder, just because we survived doesn’t change his intent, so he should be executed for that. Oppressing the populous is a hard labour crime, building the Wall, which only primary function was to wipe out cities, that’ll get him executed. It’s still a given, but they don’t want to take any chances. Fomalen has the right of defence and he is damn good at wriggling out of things.”

“I understand why Dorgen wants to stick to the process, but there’s a really large part of me that just wants to kill Fomalen in a dark alley with a knife,” Loki said.

Camtan nodded. “Me too, but fair warning, Dorgen’ll make you do boring paperwork afterwards.”

They finished their lunch slowly, mostly due to Camtan’s dawdling, but eventually there was no more food and he rose to go back to work with a sigh. “If I thought that the answer to Musleen’s curse was buried somewhere in these tomes I’d be a lot more enthusiastic about it all,” he said. “But this stuff here is all Midgardian twaddle, nothing magical at all. Granted, some of the storybooks look pretty good. There’s a couple of tales in that Perrault I think Roaseia would love, and the Basile might be worth a look later.”

“I’ve got a copy of that one,” Loki said. “It’s been ages since I last read it through but it was enjoyable, a little dark in places though, but still enjoyable.”

“Do you want to try this one? It’s called Grimm’s Fairy Tales, Camtan said, tossing it over. “I’ll mark it down as having been transferred to your possession.”

“Thanks,” Loki said, having a quick look. “I’ll read it tonight.”

The rest of the day was spent in study and work, with very little chatter. Neither of them were in a particularly good mood when they left that night. Camtan headed off to dinner with Dorgen and the rest of his family, and Loki headed back to his chambers to see his grandparents.

To his delight, Haewkyr had joined them for dinner. He grinned as Loki appeared and poured him a glass of wine. 

“Smairken’s kicked me out,” he said cheerfully. “He’s been reading seidr books all day and he’s got a headache.”

“You don’t seem particularly upset,” Loki commented, sitting down. 

He caught the stern look in his grandmother’s eyes and rose again to go and wash his hands. Haewkyr chuckled at him, making him pull a face.

“I’m not upset,” Haewkyr said. “He said ‘come back tomorrow you great lump,’ that’s practically a glowing endorsement. So I’ll drop in on him in the morning with tea and cakes, he’ll glare a bit, but he’ll eat them because he loves tea and cakes, then I’ll disappear again for the day so he’ll start to miss me. We shall have dinner that night!”

“You’ve got it all worked out then?” Lord Fallconyr commented, joining them at the table. He held his freshly cleaned hands up for inspection. Lord Eadgleyr swatted them away.

“Mostly, I like him, he’s sharp and hard and a little bit mean. What can I say? I like a challenge,” Haewkyr said with a smile.

“Will we meet him?” Lord Fallconyr asked.

Haewkyr shrugged. “Probably, but not because of me, his father is rather taken with Loki’s mother, they’ll be times he’ll feel obliged to show up.”

“Speaking of Frigga, did she get away through the Bifrost all right?” Lord Eadgleyr asked his husband.

“She did, I’ve already received a package from Thor for Loki,” he said. “It’s in your bedroom,” he added to Loki.

“And it can wait until you are finished,” Lord Eadgle said quickly as Loki went to rise.

He sat back down again and scanned the table, trying to work out how quickly he could get it all down.

“Don’t even think about it,” Lord Eadgleyr said. “Now settle in, I want to hear all about your day.”

Dinner proved to be something of a stress release. Loki related the various objects of interest he found in Fomalen’s chambers, Haewkyr told jokes, some bordering on good taste but never quite crossing over, and the two old lords listened with interest and asked all the right questions. Loki wondered how he had gone so long in life without knowing how good a family dinner could be.

But in the end dessert was complete, the last of the wine drunk, and Lord Eadgleyr relented. 

“Go on,” he said with a smile.

Loki fled to his bedroom and grabbed the parcel from his bed. It was heavy, and he opened it with shaking hands.

_Dear Loki,_

_I thought after so long that you might need some new weapons. Here are a new set of throwing knives from the forges on Nidavellir. I hope they stand you in good stead._

_Things in Asgard are well. I have taken over most of Odin’s duties as he spends his days surrounded by healers and servants. He still appears for the festivals and ceremonies, and he does still have the final word on most things, but the day to day duties are mine._

_I confess that I have imagined your guidance more than once as I navigate the complexities of the throne. If you intend to stay in Vanaheim, I should very much like to write to you for your advice on occasion, if you will permit it._

_I was astonished to discover that the quarantine on Vanaheim was a ruse, it was cleverly done; from our perspective there was nothing amiss, regular reports on the dead and dying were common. Poor Prince Occtir was badly shaken with grief; he believed his entire family had succumbed. It does not surprise me at all, however, to find that you were instrumental in defeating the usurper. I congratulate you on your victory, and, should I find the occasion to visit Vanaheim, I hope you will allow me to take you out to the taverns to celebrate._

_I love you,_

_Thor_

Loki blinked the tears out of his eyes and pulled out the knives. Well, it looked like he wouldn’t have to ask for Fomalen’s, these were perfect, absolutely perfect. Loki wanted to jump off the bed and go and thank Thor, but he couldn’t, Thor was in Asgard.

Maybe a short visit would hurt. There was Odin’s curse as well, Loki had travelled far and wide and learned many new things, he was reasonably confident that he could remove the spell without Dorgen’s help. Odin had suffered greatly, it seemed, perhaps it was time to bring him some relief.

Maybe when Musleen was awake, Loki would arrange for a day visit to Asgard, just a day though. He had promised himself he wouldn’t go back and he was determined to keep his promise.

Mostly.

He wouldn’t go back _permanently_.

A day trip didn’t really count, it would only be a few hours really.

Loki grabbed Grimm’s Fairy Tales and lay down on the bed. He’d worry about all that when Musleen was awake; right now it was far too soon. 

He read for a few hours, most of these stories were familiar to him. They had appeared in Basile’s book under different names. It appeared Midgardians were not as original as he’d first thought, or maybe all these books were merely translations into different languages. He even found The Sleeping Beauty, this time titled ‘Little Briar Rose’. Once again it ended with a kiss from a prince.

Maybe Camtan was right, maybe a prince’s kiss *would* break the spell.

It was late; everyone would most likely be asleep. If he tried it and it failed then no one would ever have to know.

Loki put the book down and slipped silently out of his chambers, down the corridors and into Musleen’s room.

There were guards, but they were on the outside and Loki just waved at them as he went in. “Just checking something,” he said.

They were used to mages by now and just nodded at him.

The room was empty, Daenceia had most likely been chased away by Mulmyr, who was determined that the young woman did not waste away by Musleen’s side. 

Loki crossed the room quickly and glanced at Musleen’s sleeping face.

He checked the door, but it remained closed.

“I’m just testing a theory,” he said quietly anyway. “And I’m sorry I can’t ask your permission.”

He leaned down, and quickly pressed a kiss against Musleen’s lips.

Nothing happened.

Loki scowled. “Waste of time,” he muttered. “And I’m sorry again,” he added to Musleen’s form. He knew that Musleen couldn’t hear him, but he still felt it was important. No one knew just how far Woalfen had gone in his obsession, and the idea of doing something even slightly close to that made Loki’s insides crawl. It was far too close to what he’d gone through.

Discouraged and angry, Loki went back to bed.


	70. Sixty Nine Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sun, the Moon, and Talia

Three days after the crow left, it returned to Haewkyr’s side with a hastily written answer on a scroll in its beak. Camtan wasn’t the only one keen to be reunited.

“Stay here,” Loki told him. “Stay right here, I will be back with them in less than five minutes.”

“Can’t I go with you?” Camtan asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“No, it’ll be faster if I bring them back here,” Loki said. “Now _wait_ , I promise it’ll be less than five minutes, watch the clock while I’m gone.”

“Patience, brother, Loki knows what he’s doing,” Dorgen counselled from beside him.

The entire royal family was gathered in one of the private gardens for the reunion. 

Loki concentrated on the location in his mind and waved a hand. The portal opened in front of him and he stepped through.

Cold. It was cold, and he hadn’t brought a coat. He could see the tents less than an hundred metres away from him and he ran quickly towards them. Not bad considering he’d been trying to locate them based on map coordinates. 

Fosxyr and Visxena were outside tending the horses when they looked up and saw him.

“Your Grace!” Fosxyr exclaimed and, without another word, bundled him inside one of the tents.

“Good to see you,” Loki said, shaking the snow from his hair.

“I knew you were coming but you’re not dressed for this cold,” Fosxyr scolded.

“I’m not planning on staying long. Where’s Sofftia and the children, we’re all going back now,” Loki said.

“The camp’s not packed up,” Fosxyr protested.

“They’re in the other tent, I’ll fetch them,” Visxena said, rolling her eyes.

“If you want to stay and pack up the camp, Fosxyr I won’t stop you,” Loki said. “But I have to take Sofftia home, I promised Camtan.”

Fosxyr’s eyes softened. “How is he?” he asked.

“Sad, and a little lost. The battle is over and he fought hard for a long time against terrible odds, but he’s all right now, he misses them terribly,” Loki said.

The tent flap opened again and Sofftia came through. She was holding Kietyr in her arms and Roaseia was holding onto her coat.

“Loki, I’m so glad to see you,” she said. “I was thrilled to get your letter, although it meant that we haven’t moved on from this spot since sending the reply. It was frustrating to watch the hours pass by.”

“Are you ready to go?” Loki asked. “I can return people here to pack everything up later.”

Sofftia nodded eagerly. “We’re all ready,” she said.

“How many are there?” Loki asked.

“Twelve, including all the servants and guards,” Sofftia answered. “I think they should all come home now too, it’s unfair to ask them to stay, especially if you can send people back here later.”

Loki nodded. “Twelve is easy,” he said. “Let’s get everyone lined up.”

Two minutes after he walked through into the snow Loki stepped out of the tent and opened the portal home.

Twelve exhausted people and one mage stepped through into the warmth of the palace garden. Loki was the last to go through and he arrived just in time to see Camtan pull back from hugging Sofftia and kneel on the ground. 

“Roa? Hi, it’s, um, it’s…” he began gently.

Roaseia was hiding behind her mother’s skirt. She peeked out at him and paused.

“It’s your daddy, sweetheart,” Sofftia said gently. “I know he has a nasty scar over his eye, but-“

“DADDY!” shrieked Roaseia suddenly, as she recognised him through the differences.

She flew out from behind her mother and threw herself into his arms. Camtan’s face crumpled, he clutched her to him, enfolding her in his arms like he’d never let her go.

“Daddy, it’s Daddy, it’s _Daddy_!” Roaseia shouted, looking back at her mother. “Daddy’s here!”

“Yes, Daddy’s here,” Camtan said thickly, not even trying to fight the tears that were pouring down his face. “Daddy’s here.” 

He stood, picking her up and looking over at Kietyr, who sat in his mother’s arms and looked bewildered. He’d been seventy years old when the coup had begun, far too young to remember his father.

Camtan raised a hand and waved at him. “Hi Kietyr,” he said.

Kietyr turned and hid his face in his mother’s shoulder.

“He’ll get used to you,” Sofftia said quickly.

“ _Kietyr_. You stop being silly. This is Daddy. I told you all about Daddy. He tells stories and plays with me and he took me to the big bathing room in the palace and we splashed all about for hours and hours,” Roaseia said in a stubborn voice. Her arms were still fastened in a death grip around his neck. “No hiding from Daddy.”

Kietyr looked up at his sister. His gaze travelled uncertainly from her to Camtan. “Dada?” he said quietly.

“Yes. Daddy,” Roaseia confirmed, nodding her head. 

Kietyr looked at Camtan again. “Dada,” he said, turning to his mother and grabbing a hold of her locket. “Dada?”

Sofftia reached up and opened the locket, inside was a picture of Camtan. “I showed it to them both every night,” she said. “I didn’t know Roa was telling him about you too.”

Kietyr pointed at Camtan. “Dada,” he said. Then he smiled.

“Hey Kietyr,” Camtan said, struggling to hold back more tears. “I’m going spend a lot more time with you now all right? Now that things are safe.”

Loki stared at the happy reunion. The feeling from earlier was back. The *look* on Camtan’s face when Roaseia had recognised him, the sheer joy in his eyes and the way he clung to her.

Loki wanted that.

He wanted that so badly that it hurt.

He wanted that _with Thor_.

A hundred and thirteen years of travelling from one place to the other and what he wanted was a Bifrost ride away.

But to have Thor meant to accept a life in Asgard. It meant giving up his freedom to be a queen again. It meant…

It meant that he might be as happy as Camtan was right now. It meant that he might rule at Thor’s side the way Mulmyr ruled at Dorgen’s. Yes he’d be giving up the freedom to simply go where he felt like it when he felt like it, but the difference was that this time the choice would be his.

The difference was this time it’d actually make him _happier._

It was something he needed to think about.

****

Five days after Sofftia came home, Loki was sitting on a seat in the garden, watching Camtan play with his children. He was still cataloguing all of Fomalen’s things, but he’d slowed right down, not that Dorgen seemed to mind. The King was currently sitting with his wife on another seat, smiling as Camtan made little Kietyr laugh.

“So you saved Vanaheim, your Grace. I’m extremely grateful of course, but I’m also curious, after all that has happened to you here, why did you even bother?” 

Loki turned to find the origin of the voice. It was Fosxyr, smiling at him with that same calming smile he always wore.

“Because Vanaheim is worth saving,” Loki said. He nodded at Camtan, who was being ‘pinned to the ground’ by his son. “That’s worth saving.”

“He’s a good boy,” Fosxyr said. “I’ve been told he had grown quite dark in his moods before you brought us home.”

“He missed his wife and children,” Loki said, gesturing for Fosxyr to sit beside him. “And there’s Musleen of course, we still can’t wake him.”

“I’ve visited him,” Fosxyr said, slowly sitting down. He looked awkward, and Loki wanted to roll his eyes in frustration at the servant/royal dynamic. Fosxyr was an uncle to two princes, he raised them, and yet he was still uncomfortable sitting in Loki’s presence.

“Daenceia gave me an update. There’s a preservation spell, a sleeping spell and a healing spell all working on him, but no one can find out how it’s working or why it won’t lift when the cleansing draughts are used. I understand that rune should be involved, but no one can find any. I wish I had magic, or even understood how it worked, because then at least I might be of some help.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Loki said. “There’s got to be a way. Spells don’t last forever, and they *can’t* recast without a mechanism of some kind, they just can’t. As soon as we find it we’ll break the spell.”

Fosxyr nodded, smiling a little as Camtan picked Roaseia up and ran around the garden with her. She shrieked in delight as the wind blew her hair back.

“At least my Sunbeam’s happy,” he said, “even if my Moonlight is stuck sleeping.”

Loki nodded. Sunbeam. That name suited Camtan far too well, and Moonlight? Well, he could just see Musleen sneaking through the night in a daring operation of utmost importance.

The sun and the moon; just like the two brothers who were so different. The sun, the moon, and Talia.

Wait. Talia? Why had he thought that name? He didn’t know anyone by that name. It was a Midgardian name, it was…

Loki shot up out of his seat. 

“Oh,” he exclaimed. “Oh!”

“Your Grace, what’s wrong?” Fosxyr asked, alarmed.

“Camtan!” Loki yelled out. “Camtan!”

Camtan came running up, as did Dorgen and Mulmyr.

“What is it?” Camtan asked him.

“When you packed up Fomalen’s books, there was a copy of Il Pentamerone by Basile in there, wasn’t there? I remember commenting that I had a copy of it!” Loki said excitedly

“I think so, yes, you did say that, what’s the matter?” Camtan asked.

“I have to check something!” Loki yelled and took off running. “Someone grab Daenceia and Thainia and meet me in the king’s chambers.”

Kietyr was picked up by Fosxyr as Mulmyr ran to fetch Daenceia. The rest of the family headed after Loki.

He was flicking through the book when they arrived, grinning from ear to ear.

“There’s a story in here, like Sleeping Beauty, but it’s called something different. The Sun, the Moon and Talia! In Perrault’s version the princess falls asleep when she’s pricked by a spindle or a spinning wheel, and so the magic is cast, but in *this* version the princess falls asleep when she pricks her finger on some flax.”

“Why?” Camtan asked. “Was she allergic?”

“It doesn’t say,” Loki said, momentarily stopping to check. “But that’s not the important part, in this version a kiss *doesn’t* wake her up. First a prince mounts her-“

“Steady on,” Camtan muttered as Daenceia, Thainia and Mulmyr entered the room.

“-then she gives birth to twins who the fairies take care of-“

“Unlikely, fairies are rubbish at child care,” Fosxyr said, juggling Kietyr on his hip.

“-and they place the children on her breast to feed, but one day one of the fairies puts one of the children too low-“

“Told you,” Fosxyr added.

“-and it sucks on her finger instead, pulling out the flax! That’s why she wakes up, there’s no kiss, no romance or love, just good old fashioned spell work!”

“And this is relevant how?” Camtan asked, leaning forward in nervousness.

Loki grinned and held up a knife. “This throwing knife was one of a set in Fomalen’s possession, it’s missing the tip. It’s a tiny piece, absolutely tiny, but more importantly, Asgard has workmen who are good enough to *engrave* something this tiny. If the tip of the knife was designed to detach once it struck something, and it had the runes of the spell carved into it, then the spell would keep casting itself over and over, just like what’s happening to Musleen.”

“But we didn’t detect anything inside of him,” Thainia said carefully.

“How small were you looking?” Loki asked. “Look at the tip, could you find something as small as that unless you were looking right for it?”

Thainia took the knife and looked at it. The entire room held its collective breath.

“If the runes powering the spell are on something that small,” Thainia said. “Then the power of the spell alone could blind someone looking for it, unless we know exactly where it is.”

“I know,” Loki said.

“Where?” Daenceia asked.

“He’s got a healing spell on him so powerful it saved him from a stab wound, but tell me, Thainia, how many healing spells *that* powerful leave a dirty great scar in the middle of your chest? It’s in his heart, or next to it, somewhere close by anyway,” Loki said. “If you check him now, knowing what you are looking for, will you see it?”

Thainia nodded. “I’ve got the feel of the metal now too that’ll help.”

“So he doesn’t need a kiss, he needs heart surgery?” Camtan asked. “I’m trying to be positive about this you know.”

“The best healers in the realm will attend to him,” Dorgen said. “I promise.”

Thainia headed out of the door with Daenceia on her heels. Together they raced back to where Musleen lay. It took Thainia almost ten minutes of searching, but at last she grinned and opened her eyes. “It’s in there,” she said, “right where Loki said it would be.”

Daenceia bit back a sob of relief.

“He’s going to be okay, Daenceia, I promise, this time tomorrow he’ll be waking up,” Thainia reassured her.

****

The surgery was a tense time. The entire royal family sat in the living room of the queen’s chambers, where Dorgen and Mulmyr had been living while Camtan cleaned out Fomalen’s things, and tried to distract themselves from what was happening in the healer’s wing of the palace. 

Loki sat with them, as did Burtchen, Fosxyr and Visxena. It was a shame that Roaseia and Kietyr were in bed, as children could be a wonderful distraction to the passage of time. Instead they all sat in silence, waiting for the word.

It came at just after midnight. Thainia entered the room, looking exhausted. She held out a container inside of which sat a piece of metal, not bigger than a broken pencil lead, or a biscuit crumb.

Loki closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them, checking it for magic. It blazed like a furnace in his vision.

“It’s so tiny,” Camtan said. “Is he all right?”

“He’s fine. The healing spell made things difficult, it kept closing the wound as we opened it, in the end we had to hold it open with surgical pliers, but it also helped to heal him as we were pulling it out, so after a night’s rest he should be fine, apart from a little bruising,” she said.

“Did he wake up?” Fosxyr asked.

Thainia shook her head. “The spell is still cast on him. He needs the cleansing draught to lift it, but now it can’t recast itself the second we try.”

“We’ll try tomorrow then, after he’s been given clearance from the healer,” Dorgen said.

Camtan opened his mouth to protest but shut it again quickly. “That’s a sensible idea,” he said, surprising Dorgen. “I’m going to try and sleep tonight. I will fail, but I’m going to try.”

Everyone else began to leave as well, relief spread out between them as though it hovered in the air.

“Are you all right?” Loki asked Daenceia.

She smiled in an exhausted kind of way. “I think so, ask me again when he’s awake,” she said. “I’ve gotten my hopes up so many times now.”

Loki pulled her into a hug. “One more time,” he said. “I promise this time will be different.”

****

The healers finally cleared Musleen just after lunch the next day. His family gathered around him as Loki brought in the draught. He stepped up to Musleen’s side and pulled the stopper from the glass flask.

Mulmyr took Dorgen’s hand and held it tightly. Lyrren and Occtir both leaned forwards where they stood. Fosxyr and Visxena held on to each other nervously. Camtan hugged Sofftia against him. Daenceia sat on Musleen’s other side and held his hand.

Loki poured the draught over Musleen’s skin.

His eyes moved under the lids, his face twitched a little, he gave a slight moan.

His eyes fluttered open. Daenceia leaned across into his vision as he blinked hard, trying to focus.

“Hello,” she said.

Musleen’s mouth turned upwards into a smile. “Hello,” he rasped in reply. “Did we get married?”

“The ceremony was interrupted,” she said, “when you jumped in front of Fomalen’s knife.”

“Oh,” Musleen said. “I don’t suppose we can finish that today?”

Daenceia kissed him.

“Now *that’s* the kiss of true love,” Camtan said, grinning from ear to ear.

****

It took almost no time at all to bring Musleen up to speed. He sat and ate an enormous plate of steak and vegetables while Daenceia, Camtan, Dorgen, Mulmyr, Burtchen, Loki, Lyrren and Occtir told him everything.

“So he’s in the cells awaiting trial?” Musleen confirmed when they were done. “Good, I want a word with him, several words actually. But first, I really meant it about marrying Daenceia, uh, if you still want to,” he added with a glance at her.

“Of course I do,” she said.

“Can we? I mean, what was there left to do?” Musleen said.

“You both said your vows, and you were in the middle of the hand-fasting with the ribbon,” Camtan said. “So it’s just the last bit.”

“Dorgen can do it,” Mulmyr said, “if we can get a hold of a ribbon.”

“I’ve got a ribbon in my hair,” Sofftia said, reaching up to pull it out.

Camtan helped her untie it and they handed it over to where Musleen and Daenceia sat. Dorgen wrapped the ribbon around their hands. “Are you two certain you want to do this right now?” he asked.

“Yes,” Musleen and Daenceia said together.

Dorgen grinned. “By your own consent you are one. Before the people you are married.”

“Finally!” Camtan shouted, making everyone in the room laugh as Musleen and Daenceia kissed.

“I had a ring I wanted to give to you,” Musleen said to her as he pulled away. “I don’t know where it went though, so I’ll have to order another.”

Loki’s hand went instinctively to the ring on his hand. Camtan and Dorgen had both said that Musleen would be able to translate it. He’d have to remember to ask later.

For now though, there was cake. Fosxyr had nipped down to the kitchens once the ceremony was over and told the servants everything. Within half an hour there were little cakes, muffins, ice-cream and jelly. The healer’s wing had never been so festive.

Dorgen gave the go ahead to invite in other people, members of the resistance and Musleen’s guards. Soon there was a massive party going. The Thunder Boys showed up, reunited and ready to play, and everyone started dancing.

Musleen sat back and rested his bruises, scanning the crowd carefully.

“Still watching for threats?” Loki asked him, coming to sit by his side.

“Always,” Musleen said.

He smiled at Loki. “It seems we owe you a great debt, from what they all told me things weren’t going all that well until you arrived.”

“I did what anyone would do,” Loki said. “Vanaheim finally had a good king, I wasn’t going to turn a blind eye and let someone else destroy that.”

“Thank you,” Musleen said seriously. 

Loki paused for a moment, before plunging in. “You know how you were, uh, being, uh, well, you know how Woalfen was around?” he asked.

Musleen looked uncomfortable. “I know Camtan killed him, and I know that with him dead I’ll never truly know what he did to me,” he said. “But I will live with that, the important thing is he *wont*.

“True,” Loki said. “But if you ever need to talk, I’ll listen.”

“Thank you,” Musleen said. “I’m hoping to get a few answers out of Fomalen, perhaps he’ll know just how far his brother went. But then again, maybe it’s not worth knowing.”

Loki thought about what he’d been through. “I couldn’t say,” he said. “There were times when I wished it could all be erased and I’d have no knowledge of it all, but then it wouldn’t have stopped it from happening.”

Musleen shrugged. “Perhaps it’s best if I don’t know,” he said. “I can’t let it control my life. Daenceia is too important to me for this to interfere.”

Loki’s hand went to the ring again.

“Um, I know it’s an odd time to ask, but, Thor Thor found this ring on Vanaheim and gave it to me. Dorgen said he was all right with it, I already asked him, but there’s writing on the inside, he said you would be able to read it.” 

“Where did he find it?” Musleen asked, curious.

Loki told him the whole story, taking the ring off when he got to the end and handing it to Musleen, who squinted at the engraving. Musleen handed it back with a smile. “That’s the same message I had put on my ring to Daenceia,” he said, “only yours is far, far older. I had no idea it went back so far.”

“What is it?” Loki asked.

“Do you remember the Vanir motto? It was said in full at Dorgen’s coronation,” Musleen asked.

Loki thought back. “The people rule the land, the king rules the people, and time rules us all,” he said.

Musleen nodded. “It’s a play on that,” he said. “It says ‘Time Does Not Rule My Heart’. It’s a promise from fifteen thousand years ago that the giver will never, ever, no matter what happens, ever stop loving the one they gave it too. Can you imagine the odds against Thor picking up that one ring among the hundreds that you said were there? Not to mention the fact that it fits you perfectly. I’m not usually given to flights of fancy, but I think the Norns might be trying to tell you something.”

And in that moment Loki realised that he was going home. He wasn’t sure exactly when; there were still things he had to do. But now that Musleen was awake, and that Fomalen’s trial was arranged, and things were finally settling down, Loki knew he was going back to Asgard.

Not for a day trip, for good.

Loki was going back to Thor.

****

That’s an incredibly big decision you’ve made,” Lord Fallconyr said that night when Loki told them both. “Not that I don’t approve, I think you two deserve to be together, but still it’s quite the decision.”

“I know,” Loki said. “But I’m sure, I’ve never been so sure about what I wanted. I finally feel as though it’s not a cage either. I think, watching Dorgen be king and seeing everyone around me make those connections. I want it too, and I’m not afraid, I’m nervous, but not afraid.”

“Good for you,” Lord Eadgleyr said, nodding firmly. “You’ll make a good queen for Asgard too, you are strong and clever and rather cunning and I think you’ll find a good use for your talents when you go back.”

“Assuming that Thor still wants to marry me,” Loki said. “I mean, I haven’t asked him yet.”

“I’m sorry, is this the same Thor that, when you told him you were Jotun, sent you a coat spelled to keep you cool in hot weather? That Thor? Or was that a different Thor? Am I mixing my Thor’s up?” Lord Eadgleyr teased.

Loki laughed. “No you are not, Grandmother, and yes, you’re right, I’m not *that* worried about his response. I’m more worried about my own. I feel as though I’m ready, but there are still a number of obstacles that I must overcome before I can marry him. For one thing, he’ll need heirs, and that means… that means I must be able to… uh.”

“Have sex? My boy we have thirteen children between us, believe me, you can use the word in our company,” Lord Eadgleyr said as Loki turned red and Lord Fallconyr chuckled. 

“Yes, well, that. If I can’t have sex I can’t be his queen. There are some other things too, but I’ve made a list, and when I’ve conquered everything on it, then I’ll be ready,” Loki said.

“May I see your list?” Lord Fallconyr asked.

Loki pulled out the parchment and handed it over. Lord Fallconyr read it through.

 ___1\. Return to Asgard permanently._  
_2\. Go out with friends in a normal setting like a tavern._  
_3\. Not losing control over myself when someone makes reference to my time with the King._  
_4\. Talking to Odin civilly, but frankly._  
_5\. Have sex with Thor._  
_6\. Conquering my lingering fears of the Ink._  
_7\. Joining the advisory councils and working with Odin without losing control over myself._

“Not a bad list,” Lord Fallconyr said. “You still have fears of the Ink?”

“I know it’s not real, but sometimes, usually when I’m already upset, I feel it on my skin,” Loki said. “It’s the same with the nightmares, I used to get them all the time but they have slowly faded, these days they only show up when I’m nervous about something already.”

“I think your goals are very sensible and quite achievable. Are you planning to tell Thor about them?” Lord Eadgleyr asked.

“Not straight away,” Loki said. “I want to try living in Asgard first, and being with my old friends again. I’ll tell him before I get to the sex one. I don’t want to get his hopes up prematurely.”

“We’ll miss you,” Lord Fallconyr said suddenly. “You were a wonderful addition to our family when you came here, Loki, and we’ll miss having you around.”

“I’ll visit,” Loki assured them both. “Things are different now between Asgard and Vanaheim, I’ll be able to visit all the time, and I will. You’ll be able to meet your great grandchildren one day.”

They both smiled at that. “Upset your father, name the first one after me,” Lord Fallconyr said, his eyes twinkling.


	71. Seventy Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Trial Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys. I am so sorry for the delay. I have no excuses at all, things just got so busy that I was writing this a sentence at a time over days and days. I will try to do better.

By Vanir law, a person could not be held without trial for more than ninety days. If the time limit was not considered enough to gather sufficient evidence, then the prosecutor could ask for a ‘first trial’, presenting what evidence they had so far and outlining what they hoped to gain in the search for more. The trial of Fomalen took place at the absolute end of the ninety day period, not because there was insufficient evidence, but because Dorgen wanted him to sit in cold isolation for as long as possible.

Besides, there were other people to see first. The trials got more and more sensational as they worked their way up the chain of command. The nobles who had openly supported Fomalen were the last to face judgement and the most severely punished.

At last the day came, and Loki, along with every other member of the resistance and as many lords and ladies as could fit into the courtroom, went along to witness events.

Fomalen had been allowed a shower and a shave. He was dressed in a plain robe that hung to the floor. Without his false belly he looked extremely fit and healthy. He faced Dorgen calmly, his eyes tracking to the emerald sitting in the king’s crown.

“Fomalen Breaveenson, you are charged with usurpation of the throne of Vanaheim, inciting rebellion, attempted murder of members of the royal family, kidnap, imprisonment, conspiracy to commit mass murder, construction of a weapon of mass murder, illegal smuggling of weapons into Vanaheim, and tax evasion,” the Court Announcer declared.

Fomalen smirked at the end. “Tax evasion? You really want to make sure don’t you, cousin?”

Dorgen said nothing.

“The Chief Court Prosecutor is nominated as Burtchen Sloiceen, who will be assisted by Court Officer Juostyr Soyenson,” the Court Announcer continued.

Burtchen walked forward, he had a stack of papers in his arms. Fomalen rolled his eyes. “Really? He’s not exactly an eloquent speaker, is he?”

“I need not be eloquent with the truth on my side,” Burtchen said quietly.

“I can’t believe that we’re supposed to share a father,” Fomalen muttered, shaking his head.

“The Chief Court Defender is nominated as Musleen Dimckenson, who will be assisted by Court Officer Failren Pleayenson,” the Court Announcer declared.

There was a loud gasp from the crowd, echoed by Fomalen as Musleen stepped forward. He was dressed in the standard court robes of the defence, a light blue, and he’d cut his hair back short, removing the curls. He’d kept the beard though, Loki noticed, although he’d shaved it into a more manageable style. The overall effect made him look older and more intimidating.

Loki hadn’t seen Musleen for a while, he and Daenceia had disappeared shortly after he’d woken up and hadn’t been seen by anyone since. Camtan, once again cheerfully playing the part of court gossip, had informed Loki that the newlyweds had gone to stay at the summer hunting grounds, a three day journey away. He hadn’t been expecting to see either of them for a good long while, but it appeared that duty had taken precedence.

Fomalen was kicking up a fuss down on the courtroom floor.

“It is inappropriate to appoint a court defender who is so closely allied to Dorgen!” he was saying in a loud, clear voice. “It is a conflict of interest in a post that must be strictly about the law!”

“On the contrary,” Musleen said in a calm voice. “I was not involved with your alleged coup and subsequent activities; I am well versed in the law and a long-time advocate of justice for all. Also, there was no one else here willing to take up the post.”

Behind him, Failren Pleayenson glared at Fomalen. It was obvious that he was assisting Musleen under sufferance.

“After the day’s charges are fully detailed you will have the opportunity to appoint a defence councillor,” the Court Announcer declared.

“Perhaps I ought to represent myself,” Fomalen suggested. “I’m *sure* that Officer Pleayenson here will be *happy* to assist me.”

Failren Pleayenson scowled in anger.

“How can there be a *fair* trial when the Court Defenders are so bias against me?” Fomalen asked. “How can my trial be fair when the judge is also the alleged wounded party?”

Loki pulled a face in the crowd, Fomalen was a gifted speaker, and he, annoyingly, had a point.

“This is entirely true,” Dorgen said calmly. “I *am* the wounded party, as is all of Vanaheim. But if we let everyone who wounds the entire realm go free on the basis that there is no one suitable to stand in judgement of them then, as a nation, we’ll be in a lot of trouble.”

There was a tittering in the hall; Fomalen scowled in response.

“And how do you suggest that a *fair* trial be conducted?” he asked. “Because an unfair one has a basis for appeal…”

He left the sentence hanging in the air, reminding everyone that it could be centuries before he actually faced punishment.

Dorgen, however, looked unperturbed. “That is why I have asked for assistance in this matter,” he said. “A crime against an entire realm is serious, the result has ramifications that affect more than just us, and, as you have pointed out, I cannot be impartial in this matter. Therefore I have invited a jury of *your* peers, Fomalen, to judge the trial itself. If they feel the outcome was in some way compromised then you will have grounds for a retrial, if not, then your verdict and any related outcomes will stand.”

With that he gestured to the door behind him, and in walked Prince Ingvi Freyrson of Alfheim, crown prince of the light elves, Princes Otr Hreiðmarrson and Fafnir Hreiðmarrson of Nidavellir, and, on their heels, Prince Thor Odinson of Asgard.

Loki had to bite his lip hard to keep himself from jumping out of his seat. Thor was here. _Thor_ was here. Thor was _here_.

And Dorgen hadn’t told him. 

That sneaky bastard.

The four princes bowed respectfully to Dorgen before taking a seat on the bench normally reserved for the judges.

Fomalen still looked outraged. “I protest! They have nothing to do with this!” he cried.

“They are here to ensure fairness and justice,” Dorgen said. “They are princes, as are you. There will be no further outbursts otherwise you will be gagged until it is your time to speak.”

He made a gesture and Burtchen and Musleen took up opposing stations on either side of the speaking square.

“Prosecutor, present your case,” Dorgen said clearly.

Burtchen began to speak, piecing together the timeline of events for the courtroom. Loki barely listened; he was too busy looking at Thor. Without meaning to his hand strayed to the ring on his finger. He touched the emerald on the surface, rubbing it gently with his opposing finger.

Time Does Not Rule My Heart.

Well it certainly didn’t rule Loki’s; more than a hundred years later and he was still as hopelessly in love with Thor as the day he’d left.

Thor was watching the events on the courtroom floor with a serious expression. He looked a little older, maybe a little wiser. Loki longed to be close enough to look at him properly. By all accounts he’d been running Asgard while Odin suffered from his ‘illness’; Loki hoped the strain wasn’t getting to him.

About two hours into Burtchen’s presentation, Musleen coughed and advised a slight correction to the terminology, otherwise the trial went all morning without a word from the defence. Fomalen’s list of crimes were so long that Burtchen still hadn’t completed detailing them all by the time the court broke for lunch.

Loki pushed his way through the crowd, barely maintaining the minimum amount of politeness as he headed down towards the private end of the courtroom. He used to walk those corridors on the arm of the king, but he shoved the thought aside in his eagerness to see Thor.

There were guards on the doorway. They blocked his way as he approached.

“Prince Loki of Asgard, I would like to see my brother, Prince Thor,” Loki said, a little breathlessly.

One of the guards disappeared inside to deliver his message. He returned a moment later and gestured for Loki to go inside.

Loki headed down the corridor and to the area at the far end; it was a reception area from which several rooms could be accessed, including the dining room. Loki nodded at the guards standing outside, there were two from each realm represented, eight guards in all. They were arranged along the wall and, to Loki’s eyes, looked rather comical. He was careful not to laugh though.

“Is Prince Thor inside?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“He is, your Grace, and he is expecting you,” answered one of the Aesir.

A Vanir guard pushed open the door for him and Loki walked in. Inside, the sheer concentration of royalty was impressive. Loki noted that Dorgen had diplomatically replaced the table with a round one, so as to eliminate any accidental prestige.

Then his eyes flicked back upward, to the only thing in the world that mattered.

Thor.

Golden and glowing, at least as far as Loki was concerned, he stood out among all others. His eyes met Loki’s and he grinned.

“Brother,” he exclaimed cheerfully. “I am so glad to see you well!”

His remark captured the attention of the others, who were in the middle of the shuffling and shifting that normally accompanied a large group of people trying to find their assigned seating.

Loki smiled and stepped toward him. The feeling in his chest was back and stronger than ever. Desire, not just of Thor himself but of everything he represented: home, warmth, love, a future.

Happiness.

“There’s a seat for you, Loki, I had a feeling you would be coming for lunch,” Dorgen said from where he sat at the table.

It was next to Thor. They sat down, still sneaking glances at each other and trying to hide their smiles.

“Mother said you were well,” Thor said quietly. “I wanted to see it for myself.”

“You didn’t tell me you’d be here for the trial,” Loki said.

“At the request of King Dorgen our involvement was to remain secret until the trial began. He did not want to give anyone time to use this information to their advantage,” Thor said with an apologetic look.

“You are forgiven,” Loki said, glancing back at him while trying not to smile.

This felt good. Really good. He felt light and silly, a far cry from the darkness that had plagued him the last time they had spoken.

Loki wasn’t foolish enough to believe that there would be no problems, but he was hopeful that this good start meant that he was ready to overcome them.

The foreign princes were joined by Princes Lyrren, Occtir and Camtan, each of whom were strategically placed around the table so as to ensure that a seat far from the king still held appropriate honour. Camtan caught Loki’s eye and winked at him. Loki quickly looked at his plate.

Lunch was served by Musleen’s guards and the palace servants. Loki realised that he recognised most of them as the company began to eat.

The lunchtime discussion centred around the differences in the realms. Each of the princes had visited each other’s realms at least once as a result of their duties, and light chatter about the different sights kept them occupied for the hour without difficulty.

The only problem was that Loki badly wanted to talk to Thor about returning to Asgard, but he felt that such a discussion should be private. Sitting so close to him for the whole lunch was agony.

But it was a different agony to the way it used to be, and that made all the difference in the world.

The trial reconvened after lunch and lasted until the end of the day. Burtchen only just finished his explanation of events as the sun set.

Dorgen stood up and addressed Fomalen directly.

“We have heard the first prosecution and you have until the morning to issue your official plea. If you wish to engage a defender you may do so, if no defender can be found or you choose to do so then you may defend yourself. We will return in the morning to hear the plea and the first defence,” he declared. “Until then the trial is in suspension.”

Fomalen was led out of the courtroom as the crowd got slowly to its feet.

“This is going to be a long one,” muttered an old man beside Loki. “I go to all the trials you know. I used to be an Officer, but my memory started to go and I had to stop. Still watch the trials though. This one’s going to be a long one.”

Loki nodded politely as they walked out together. “Fomalen’s guilty,” he said. “It doesn’t matter how long it is it’s going to end the same way.”

The old man nodded. “Prince Musleen’ll do his best to see that it’s fair, I know that. By the time it’s done, if Fomalen hangs it’ll be because there’s no other option. It’ll be a long one, you know.”

Loki headed back to the private corridors again, stepping past the guards without incident and meeting Thor as the princes prepared to retire to the palace for the night.

“Would you like some company in your carriage?” he asked.

Thor beamed like the sun. “Certainly,” he said.

Princes Otr Hreiðmarrson and Fafnir Hreiðmarrson of Nidavellir were joined in their carriage by Prince Lyrren and Prince Ingvi Freyrson of Alfheim was joined in his carriage by Prince Occitr, so as to ensure proper respect by all concerned.

Loki and Thor were joined by Camtan, who made a great show of looking out of the window. Loki wanted to swat him, as though he was going to have a serious conversation with the biggest gossip in the court sitting right there? No, he’d wait a little longer. But in the meantime he shot a smile at Thor, wanting to see that grin again.

He got his wish. Thor looked like all his dreams had come true.

“I missed you,” he said.

“I missed you too,” Loki said.

Camtan shuffled closer to the window.

“You’re not fooling anyone, you know,” Loki said to him. “Why didn’t you tell me Musleen was going to be Court Defender? I can’t help but agree with Fomalen, although saying that out loud makes me feel ill, it has to be a conflict of interest for him to do so for the man by whom he was almost murdered.”

Camtan shrugged. “Absolutely no one was willing to do it. They all declared that they had too much invested in the outcome. Musleen *is* fair, he *will* see that the law is obeyed to the best of his ability, which is very good indeed. By the time the trial is over there will be no doubt of his guilt, even with Musleen standing for him.”

“I do not understand the role of a Court Defender when Fomalen is permitted to have a personal defender of his own,” Thor said, frowning.

“The Court Defender’s role is to ensure that the law is obeyed by the prosecution, if there is a clause or a technicality that means the prosecutor cannot do or say something, the Court Defender must point it out. He did it this morning when Burtchen said Fomalen planned to kill the entire royal family. Fomalen let his brothers live, therefore the terminology Burtchen used was incorrect; he should have said ‘the king and his immediate relatives, excluding cousins’,” Loki explained.

“That’s a mouthful,” Thor said.

“Whether or not it’s a mouthful is not the Court’s concern,” Camtan said with a smile. “If the prosecution gets anything wrong then Fomalen can use it as a basis for appeal.”

“Let’s not let that happen,” Loki said quickly. “He’s caused enough damage already; I can’t think how bad it will be if he finds a reason to postpone his sentence.”

“I think King Dorgen is being very wise,” Thor said. “To sentence someone without a trial is his right, but how then can anyone _prove_ that you have been fair? How can anyone trust that you will be in the future?”

“He’s a wise man,” Camtan said.

Loki nodded in agreement. “Very, I’m glad he’s the king.”

He caught Thor’s eye and they both smiled. 

“Will you join me with our grandparents for dinner?” Loki asked.

“I would love to,” Thor said, “as long as King Dorgen wasn’t expecting me to dine with him and the other princes.”

“I’m sure he won’t mind,” Camtan said. “It is family after all.”

Thor and Loki shared another smile. 

****

Dinner was an interesting affair. Haewkyr had come out from wherever he and Smairken had been hiding and had joined them. The look of surprise on his face when he saw Thor made Loki laugh.

“Play nice,” Loki warned him with a smile.

“I’m always nice,” Haewkyr said. “Smairken’s joining us by the way, I convinced him to meet my relatives.”

“Oh,” Loki said. “That’s nice,” he added quickly.

“He’s promised to behave,” Haewkyr said cheerfully. “But you just be your usual delightful self and I’m sure you two will get off on the right foot this time.”

“Are you teasing me?” Loki asked.

“Yeah,” Haewkyr said, unabashed. “How are you, Thor?” he added as Thor extracted himself from his grandparents and came over. They clasped wrists in greeting.

“I am well, cousin, and you?” Thor asked.

“Alive, intact, wooing a crow in human form, can’t complain,” Haewkyr said with a grin. There was a knock on the door. “There he is now!” Haewkyr exclaimed and went to open it.

Smairken walked in with a disapproving expression on his face, although he straightened his features when he approached by Lord Fallconyr and Lord Eadgleyr.

“Your Lordsirs,” he said politely.

“Sir Smairken, it is a pleasure to meet you at last, Haewkyr has praised you highly these past few months,” Lord Fallconyr said with a twinkle in his eye. 

Smairken looked uncomfortable at the praise.

“You’re supposed to say ‘thank you’,” Haewkyr whispered loudly.

Smairken looked further embarrassed and muttered a thank you. It was only then that he caught sight of Loki standing by Thor; his expression immediately became nervous.

“Sir Smairken, it is good to see you here,” Loki said. “Although I apologise for my cousin’s manners, how you stand him I do not know.”

“Hey!” Haewkyr protested as Smairken fought a smile.

Dinner was pleasant, due mostly to Lord Eadgleyr’s determination to make it so. He kept up a steady stream of chatter as they ate their way through the two courses, asking questions of both Thor and Smairken.

“You are considered quite the hero of the resistance,” he said at one point to Smairken, who again looked uncertain as how to respond. “Well done, and thank you for all you did to make our realm safe. Has King Dorgen rewarded you yet?”

“Reward?” Smairken said, sounding vaguely terrified. “No, he hasn’t.”

“The trials aren’t yet over, once the last of the messy business is done he’ll reward all those who helped him, you’ll see,” Lord Fallconyr said.

“I… I didn’t do it for that,” Smaieken mumbled.

“No one did,” Haewkyr said cheerfully, “but that doesn’t mean it won’t happen anyway. Your father was just saying the other day that you deserve a manor of your own, somewhere near his, he was suggesting.”

“He suggested that to the King?” Smairken asked.

“I heard him myself, I was there helping to arrange the reintroduction of food exports now that the ‘quarantine’ is lifted,” Haewkyr said. “The east needed a spokesperson and I’ve grown quite close to the royal family these past few decades, so they elected me.”

“It’s good to see you being responsible,” Lord Fallconyr said. 

“It’s only a hobby,” Haewkyr answered with a grin.

“What is? Arranging exports or being responsible?” Loki asked.

Haewkyr winked at him. “Guess,” he said cheerfully.

Thor had said little throughout the meal; he had eaten everything on his plate, plus a second helping, and had even mopped up the gravy with three pieces of bread. Loki almost teased him about eating as much as possible while still being polite, but the conversation kept switching to different topics so rapidly that he didn’t have time.

Besides, he had a better plan.

****

It was half an hour after they had bid their grandparents goodnight when Loki knocked on Thor’s bedroom door. In his arms he had a platter of hot beef, pork and chicken rolls, enough for five men.

Thor opened the door and his eyes immediately went to the food.

“How did you know?” he asked, letting Loki inside.

“How could I not? You barely said anything at dinner, you were pacing yourself so that you’d finish at the same time as everyone else for lunch. I know you, Thor, I know when you’re hungry, the only question I have is why?”

Thor grabbed a roll, all manners forgotten as he tore into it. “Rations,” he said with his mouth full. “Asgard has been on rations for forty three years. Half our food came from Vanaheim, when it was suddenly cut off we had to do something quickly to prevent people from starving, so Odin and I implemented a rationing system, to ensure that everyone had… well, not enough, but not nothing either. Of course it wasn’t fair unless I joined in too-“

“Of course,” Loki said, realising as he did so that Thor was, well, thin.

How had he not spotted that before?

“-so I haven’t had a full meal in a long time. All the peaceful realms were suffering to some extent. This roll is _good_.”

“Have them all,” Loki said. “But don’t tell anyone. Grandmother would be horrified to think that you hadn’t eaten enough at dinner.”

“I didn’t want to seem greedy,” Thor said. “But the _lunch_ , the sheer _amount_. I know that Vanaheim has been fighting a war but to see that much food was like torture. I kept thinking of all the people back in Asgard who are still hungry. I wanted to pack it up and take it back to them.”

“Well the exports will be starting again soon,” Loki said. “Vanaheim produces too much food for all its citizens, so there’s a lot already in storage.”

“I know, I’ve read the preliminary reports,” Thor said, sounding serious and grown up, for all that he had gravy in his beard. “The first shipment is due to arrive within a week. I’ve already advised Odin to send it out to the poorer areas, the nobles still managed to have more, even with rationing, they converted what garden space they had into fields for crops. Asgard looks very different to how it once did, the flowers are gone, and in their place are turned earth and vegetable patches.”

“It certainly shows Vanaheim’s worth to the other realms. I’m surprised that you didn’t claim some Midgardian fields as your own, there must be large areas untouched by the mortals,” Loki said.

Thor shook his head. “Not as many as you would think these days, they’ve travelled to almost every corner of their realm, and the areas they haven’t reached are usually covered in ice or not considered good for growing. There’s also been an odd trend in their evolution, there have been isolated cases of mutations causing seidr eruptions.”

“Seidr eruptions?” Loki said, settling himself on Thor’s couch. “What do you mean?”

“Flight, super-strength, lasers shooting from their eyes, super-healing. It’s fascinating to watch, actually. Groa thinks that their old seidr ability went dormant in the past and that it’s starting to manifest as genetic mutations, truthfully no mortal should be able to fly without wings, or even with wings, they’re too heavy,” Thor said. “It’s isolated right now but Groa thinks they could very well continue down this path and wind up with an entire race of evolved mortals.”

“I’d like to read her notes on the subject,” Loki said.

“I’ll ask her to send them to you,” Thor offered, taking another roll.

Loki took a deep breath. He’d been wanting to talk to Thor all day about his decision; now that they were finally in private, it was time.

“Actually, I can ask her myself,” he said, “when I go back to Asgard.”

Thor froze, half a roll still in his mouth.

“Swallow it,” Loki said.

Thor swallowed. “You… you’re coming back to visit?” he asked. “I thought you’d never set foot in Asgard again.”

“I’m not coming back to visit,” Loki said, heart pounding with nerves. “I’m… I’m coming back to stay, at least, I’m going to try to.”

Thor stood up. Then he walked a few steps one way, then the other, then he sat down.

Then he stood up again.

“I…” he began, and stopped.

“How…?” he tried again.

“When…?” he managed to say on his third try.

“Sit down, Thor, please,” Loki said, smiling in relief now that he’d voiced his decision out loud to the only person whose opinion truly mattered. “I decided when fighting the war that I wanted to try and live in Asgard again. I was raised there; I care about it and what happens to it. I want to try and stay.”

Thor sat, but he couldn’t keep still. He was rocking slightly on the cushion and trying not to grin.

“It’s not a guarantee that I’ll stay,” Loki warned him.

“I know, I know,” Thor said hurriedly. “But I missed you, and now you’re going to come back, this is… this is _wonderful_ , Loki, this is fantastic.”

Loki fought not to grin and lost. “I missed you too,” he admitted.

He thought about his list. He longed to tell Thor everything, but he didn’t dare get his hopes up too far. He’d try living in Asgard first, that was the plan and he would stick to it.

“I’m not going to live in the palace,” Loki said. “I’ve thought about it, and I want to live in a house in the city where I can practice my seidr and run my business.”

“You have a business?” Thor asked, intrigued.

“I *had* a business, before the war. I supplied most of the heterwart to Vanaheim via the Alfhiem traders, I want to get that started again before anyone else jumps in and takes over,” Loki said. “And this time I want to run it myself. I had to leave it in the hands of others before, but I paid attention to their reports and I want to try.”

“You seem to have a lot of plans,” Thor said. “Can I visit you?”

“Of course you can,” Loki said. “You can visit every day if you want to.”

Thor grinned at him. “Maybe I will,” he said, beaming like a sunrise.

Loki returned his grin with a smile, his hand automatically going to the ring on his finger.

_Time Does Not Rule My Heart_

Based on the flutter he felt, time had done nothing to diminish his feelings either.


	72. Seventy One Steps

Fomalen was annoyed. He had declined external council on the basis that no one wanted to help him anyway, and had instead asked for the law books to be brought to him so that he might mount his own defence.

The palace kept a copy of the law books for that exact reason, and they right now littered his cell as he searched through the pages. 

But Fomalen was searching them for a different reason. Many years ago now, he had laced the books with spells to help him escape should he find himself in prison, because above all things Fomalen believed in backup plans, and backup plans to his backup plans.

Someone had replaced the books with new versions, and Fomalen strongly suspected that he knew who had done it.

Footsteps on the stones distracted him and he looked up in time to see Musleen calmly approach the outside of the cell.

“I wondered when you’d show up,” Fomalen said, smiling pleasantly. “Thank you for the books, it’s easier to read the newer script than those old grubby ones.”

“You’re welcome,” Musleen said. “Any luck finding a subclause that allows you to get away with it all?”

“None so far, I believe I am truly in for it this time,” Fomalen said. He put the book down and walked to the bars. “Who figured it out?” he asked. “Was it Loki? I suspect it was Loki. That boy is very clever, and clearly underestimated.”

“The important point is that I am awake,” Musleen said calmly. 

“Definitely Loki,” Fomalen commented.

“And I have some questions for you,” Musleen continued as though Fomalen hadn’t spoken.

“You are the Court Defender, charged to make sure neither side tries to claim something inaccurate during the trial, is it appropriate for you to be asking me questions?” Fomalen said with a smile.

“My questions are of a personal nature,” Musleen said. “I understand that I was unconscious and left in the primary care of Woalfen, yes?”

“He fucked you almost every day,” Fomalen said calmly. “I asked him to stop at one point, it was so vulgar, but would he be swayed? No, not even a little.”

Musleen nodded. “Liar,” he said pleasantly.

Fomalen smirked. “Do you say that because you *wish* it were true?” he asked.

“No, I say that because it *is* true. How far did he go?” Musleen asked.

Fomalen shook his head. “All the way, all the time, maybe daily was an exaggeration, but it was still extremely often.”

“Liar,” Musleen said again, still unbreakably calm.

Fomalen rolled his eyes. “I promise you I’m not lying; he did things to you that would have left scars had I not included such a powerful healing spell in your wound.”

“Liar,” Musleen said.

“Can you say anything else?” Fomalen asked. 

Musleen’s mouth twitched. “Oh yes,” he said. 

There was silence in the room.

“He bathed you every week,” Fomalen said at last. “I told him he didn’t have to bother but he still did it. I have no idea how far he went in the hot, hot water.”

Musleen tilted his head to the side. “Liar,” he said. 

Fomalen scowled. “I’m not!” he snapped. “He bathed you *every* week, he enjoyed it!”

“That seems true,” Musleen said. “But you are lying about not knowing how far he went.”

Fomalen growled under his breath. “He never had you, he didn’t like the fact that you couldn’t respond, but he had *plans* for you. He was going to fuck you into submission; he was going to make you suck him off every damn day until you learnt your place!”

“I believe you,” Musleen said.

“ _Finally_ ” Fomalen snapped. “I was telling you the truth… you have a truth spell on the room don’t you?” he asked with a look of impressed resignation.

“I do,” Musleen said. “Thank you for your co-operation.”

Fomalen sighed, and then shrugged. “Oh well, it hardly matters now, does it?” he said.

Musleen turned to walk away.

“When I get out of here I’m going to kill Camtan for murdering my brother,” Fomalen said calmly.

Musleen paused and turned.

“ _When_ you escape?” he asked calmly.

Fomalen grinned wildly. “I’ll surprise you,” he said. “I’ll definitely surprise Camtan, and then I’ll surprise his wife with a visit, and his children. I’ll cut his little girl into a thousand pieces and leave them scattered all over the palace. I’ll take his little boy and sell him to a brothel, he can grow up *really* fast but Camtan won’t see it because he’ll be dead by then. I’ll kill him so slowly he’ll beg me to hurry up and finish it.”

Musleen waited patiently until he had finished. “Liar,” he said before quickly holding up a hand. “Oh I know you believe it, which I confess is incredibly disturbing, but you won’t do any of that, because you are not getting out of here. If you had the means to do so then you would be gone by now.”

Fomalen smirked. “You and I are playing a game, Musleen. You don’t want to admit it but we are. I plan to win the realm, you plan to stop me, I plan to escape, you plan to contain me, but the problem you face is that you must wait for me to make my move, and by the time I have done so it will be too late for your baby brother.”

Musleen turned and walked away without saying anything, behind him, Fomalen let out a loud bark of laughter.

Musleen walked through the door and to the other side, he headed around the corner to a small room with a scrying crystal in it.

“You saw all of that?” he confirmed to the people sitting around the crystal.

Camtan nodded, his face ugly. Dorgen also gave a nod, as did Daenceia. Mulmyr turned to Camtan. “It’s not going to happen,” she assured him. “Fomalen will be watched every minute; his powers have been neutralised, he will hang.”

“Maybe I should have just killed him,” Dorgen muttered.

“You shouldn’t have to become a tyrant just to ensure peace. He’ll be gone soon enough,” Musleen said. He looked across at Camtan. “Do you want to leave the city?” he asked.

Camtan shook his head. “I won’t run from him,” he said. “But I might ask Sofftia if she’ll take the children to her father’s for a little while.”

“Fomalen would check there if he got out,” Dorgen said. “But they can go to Lord Kinndyr’s, he can hide them wherever the western base is.”

“I won’t stop you if you decide to send them away,” Musleen said. “But I would prefer it if they stayed here where I can keep watch. Fomalen *is* contained, and he is being watched every second.”

Camtan sighed heavily. “I want him dead,” he said. “I want it *over*.”

“It will be, the trial will be over in a week, maybe less, and then he’ll hang,” Dorgen assured him.

“Tomorrow he has a chance to speak in his defence, we should be rested and ready for whatever he tries,” Musleen said. “Let’s get to bed. My men are watching him closely.”

They rose and headed up towards the warm, more comfortable areas of the palace. 

****

The next morning Loki arrived at the courtroom early in order to ensure he had a good seat. Thor would be travelling with the other guests, so they did not manage to see one another.

But last night, last night had been a *good* night. Thor had eaten his way through all the rolls as the hours ticked by. He had offered Loki some but Loki had declined, preferring to see Thor’s appetite sated. When dressed in only his sleeping clothes his thinness was far more obvious, and Loki had found the lack of muscle alarming. ‘Were all the warriors like that right now?’ He wondered as the crowd began to grow around him. ‘What about poor Volstagg?’ 

Vanaheim had always been a primary provider of food to the nine realms; their vast lands were perfect for crops and grazing. The quarantine had only highlighted how important they were to their neighbours.

Dorgen entered the courtroom, shaking Loki out of his thoughts. The King was followed by the four visiting princes. They took their seats as Fomalen was led in from the rear of the room.

He looked calm and focussed, which made Loki narrow his eyes. There was no way he could justify what he’d done, the death count alone among the people during his takeover would see to that. He had openly ordered Camtan’s death the time he’d been caught in a raid, he had lied to the other realms and the army about what had happened in the capital. He *had* to be found guilty. 

And yet he looked so calm.

Burtchen took his place and readied his notes; Musleen did likewise and nodded his readiness to Dorgen.

“Prince Fomalen of Vanaheim, how to you plead to the charges laid before you yesterday?” he asked.

Fomalen met his gaze calmly.

“I plead innocent,” he said in a clear voice.

Loki rolled his eyes. It would have been too much to hope fort that Fomalen would just accept that he’d lost.

“Very well, your plea has been entered into the records, you may begin your defence,” Dorgen said.

Fomalen smiled and scanned the courtroom. His eyes moved from Camtan to Lyrren, to Daenceia and then to Loki. He looked as though he was taking notes on each and every one of them.

“I will begin with the *tax evasion*,” he said in a mocking tone. “It’s important to deal with the most serious charges first, after all.”

He spoke for some time, outlining the various clauses and subclauses that allowed him to avoid paying his fair share of tax. 

He was doing it on purpose, Loki thought. He was dragging out the inevitable, annoying everyone by doing so, and mocking the court and the royal family at the same time.

Everyone waited patiently while he spoke; Musleen only interrupted once, to point out a change in the law which Fomalen should have been aware of which scuttled one of his arguments.

When he was finally finished Burtchen spoke again, arguing for the prosecution that Fomalen’s arguments were mostly rubbish.

He finished just before lunch, and Dorgen straightened in his chair.

“I find you guilty of tax evasion,” he said calmly, “for the simple reason that you did not pay any taxes. Deductions are all very well but you cannot bring them down to zero.”

There was a slight tittering among the stands. Fomalen did not look surprised, one corner of his mouth turned upwards.

“Shall we break for lunch?” he said. “It is about that time.”

Loki scowled. With a single suggestion he had taken control of the room. Dorgen could either agree with him, thus losing in a show of power, or he could keep everyone here longer, in which case it would be obvious why.

Damn.

Dorgen smiled; his mask did not even slightly crack.

“Are our guests ready for a break?” he asked the four princes. “I would hate to be thought of as an ungracious host.”

The four princes exchanged glances before Thor spoke for them. “Lunch sounds good, besides, it is scheduled for now in the daily itinerary, is it not?”

“It is,” Dorgen confirmed. “The court is suspended for one hour.”

With that he left the room without acknowledging Fomalen further.

“Nice,” Loki whispered under his breath, before rising to hurry after Thor.

He looked back at the courtroom and found his gaze locked with Fomalen’s, who gave him a smile and a salute before he was escorted from the room.

Loki made his way to the dining room in a thoughtful mood. Something was up, he just wished that he knew what it was.

A moment later his dark thoughts were forgotten as he laid eyes on Thor. 

He looked tired, but then they had stayed up quite late talking, and his eyes glowed with a light from within.

Loki slipped into the seat beside him as the others got settled.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked quietly.

“Indeed,” Thor said. “Although I have been thinking about your plans.”

“Oh?” Loki asked.

“About wanted a house in the city. Will you require a household? Servants and such?” Thor asked.

“I’d like some,” Loki said. “I’ve never lived without servants before, except when I’m travelling. I’m not convinced I know how to.”

“May I come with you to look at the potential houses?” Thor asked. “And I can assign some servants from the royal house until you find your own?”

Loki smiled at both his eagerness and his struggle for restraint. “I’d like that,” he said.

Lunch was much the same as it had been the day before, the princes avoided speaking of the trial in favour of lighter topics, although Loki had no doubt that they would be discussing things whenever they found themselves alone. Fomalen’s acts had far reaching consequences, what happened to him next would set a precedent and send a message to those considering a similar move.

Loki thought again about the look Fomalen had given him as he made his way back to the stands for the afternoon. He wanted to speak to Musleen about it, and perhaps reassure himself that Fomalen could not do anything, regardless of the looks he was sending Loki’s way.

Fomalen argued against the charge of conspiracy in the afternoon. He spoke well, and passionately, but ultimately there was overwhelming proof of his acts, and Burtchen barely had to speak in response before Fomalen was again found guilty.

“We will assemble tomorrow to continue to hear the defence,” Dorgen announced, ending the day’s session.

Loki rode back with Thor and Camtan again, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

“Loki? What’s wrong?” Thor asked, looking concerned.

“I don’t like the way Fomalen looked at me today,” Loki said. “He’s got to be planning something; there’s no way this trial will end in his favour.”

“I saw him,” Camtan said. “He’s been making threats behind the scenes, but Musleen assures me that he can’t carry them out.”

“What kind of threats?” Thor asked, looking worried.

Loki thought he looked cute like that.

“Evil ones,” Camtan said darkly. “But he’ll be dead before the end of next week, we just have to make it through until then.”

“Prince Musleen is confident in the guards?” Thor asked.

“Yes,” Camtan and Loki said at the same time.

“Musleen is the best there is,” Loki said to Thor. “Fomalen won’t get away from him.”

Thor nodded in acceptance. “Then he’s no doubt simply trying to cause as much discord as possible before his death,” he said. 

Loki agreed with him, but even so, he was in a thoughtful mood as they arrived back at the palace.

In his cell beneath the palace, Fomalen skimmed through the law books in a bored fashion. He was annoyed at having his first plan thwarted; those spells would have made his escape easy, but it was not to be. The palace was no longer somewhere that he could simply stroll out of, but the courthouse? Oh yes, the courthouse was an entirely different matter. He had laced the courthouse cells with spells for escape and concealment, and today he had gotten the chance to plot out his next move during the lunch break. He’d be free by this time the next day.

Then he’d kill them, all of them, all those who had had a hand in his demise. First Loki, it had to be. Loki was the strongest, the most powerful. He had to take Loki out of the equation if he was to have any hope of destroying the others.

Who next? Camtan? No, he’d make the little shit wait for it. Daenceia. Yes. Bitch. He’d slice her open and leave her disembowelled body on Musleen’s bed for him to find. *Then* he’d kill Camtan, then Occtir, Lyrren, Dorgen, all of them, one by one, and Musleen would drive himself mad trying to stop it, but he wouldn’t succeed, and when he was the last one left *then* Fomalen would capture him, tie him up in chains and bury him alive next to Woalfen’s body. He’d put them in the same burial ship and listen to Musleen cry for help while he slowly suffocated under the growing mound of earth.

Without meaning to, Fomalen realised that he’d grown hard thinking about his conquest. He slid one hand down and rubbed himself through the fabric of his nightshirt. They’d all die, all of them, oooooh yes, slowly and painfully, and they would all realise, before the end, that they couldn’t stop him, no one could stop him, no one could beat him. Musleen was a challenge, Loki would be a challenge, but in the end they would not be good enough.

With a grunt and a sigh, Fomalen came, spilling his seed over the side of the bed. Some idiot servant would have to clean that up in the morning.

He rolled onto his back and settled down to sleep with a sigh of contentment.


	73. Seventy Two Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Best Laid Back Up Plans

Loki asked after Musleen immediately after dinner. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. Fomalen was too calm, too mocking, perhaps it was all a feint… or perhaps not.

Musleen was back at the courthouse, which Loki found odd, but he mounted up on Lightning anyway and rode out across the city as darkness settled in properly among the streets.

The lamplights were cheerful little glowing circles that interspersed with the darkness. Loki was sure it was only his apprehension, but he could have sworn that the darkness seemed thicker somehow, more menacing. It reminded him of the Ink.

He shook his head hard. The Ink was all in his mind, and as long as he kept busy and did not acknowledge it, it hardly ever bothered him these days. He forced himself to think of other things.

The courthouse was dark and silent, but a single soft glow in a lower window told Loki that Musleen was still about. He dismounted and looped Lightning’s reigns around a post before heading inside.

His footsteps echoed loudly on the floor, bringing Musleen out immediately with Burtchen at his side.

“Loki? What are you doing here?” Musleen asked.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Loki said. “I can’t shake the feeling that Fomalen is planning something. I know you’ve got it under control but even so, I just wanted… reassurance?”

Musleen relaxed. “I can understand that,” he said. “I was thinking of making Fomalen give his defence from inside the palace cell via a communication screen, but it’s never been done before and he’ll argue that it hindered his case, which is grounds for appeal.”

“What were you doing here tonight?” Loki asked.

“Checking for anything that might help Fomalen,” Musleen said. “I *know* the palace cells are secure, if they weren’t he would not have waited until his trial to escape, but that means if he is planning something then it has to take place either here or on route to here.”

“He’s watched every second, but there might still be a way to escape,” Burtchen said. “Why don’t you have a look with us, seeing as you are already here? You can look and see if there are any spells we missed.”

Loki followed them down into the courthouse cells. He summoned the spell to see magic and scanned the room.

“Our mages already went over it all, but perhaps he won’t rely on magic,” Musleen said, testing the cells bars one at a time.

Loki frowned. He could see spells for confinement, spells for truth and spells for protection against attack from external forces, in case any breakout attempt came from the outside, but there was something about it that was bothering him.

“The floor is secure,” Burtchen said. “Maybe we should move which cell he’s put into, just to rattle him.”

“What if that’s what he’s hoping for?” Musleen asked quietly. “Maybe he hasn’t escaped yet because we’ve put him in a cell that *isn’t* modified.”

“There’s something wrong with the magic on the wall,” Loki said. “It looks fine at first, but I would swear that some parts have been renewed recently.”

“The court mages go over the spells all the time,” Burtchen said. “They’re on a schedule, I believe.”

“I suppose,” Loki said doubtfully. “I would swear there’s something wrong with these ones though, but I can’t figure out what.”

“Do we have time to scrub them away and renew them from scratch?” Musleen asked immediately.

“I doubt it,” Burtchen said. “But we can summon the court mages and try.”

“Fomalen’s magic is sealed by the cuffs he wears,” Loki said. “If we scrub the spells and make sure the cell is physically secure he shouldn’t be able to go anywhere, and it’s only for the hour or so that he’s held in here over lunchtime.”

“Let’s get the mages,” Musleen said. “We can’t let that snake slip away. He’s been exposed as the bastard he is and that makes him dangerous. He won’t hold back if he gets free.”

Loki looked again at the walls, something about them was nagging him but he couldn’t figure it out. It shouldn’t matter though if they were going to scrub them anyway.

He gave the room another glance but couldn’t put his finger on what was bothering him.

Burtchen called the mages down to the courthouse and explained what they wanted. Loki sat beside Musleen and watched in silence as they began the long process of stripping back the spells from the walls and recasting as many of them as they could.

Loki’s head fell forwards after a while and he began to doze. Beside him, Musleen rubbed his hand over his eyes. He knew that they should both be in bed asleep, but he also knew neither of them would leave until the job was completed.

The sun was rising when the mages were finally dismissed. Loki and Musleen had both napped against the wall in stages throughout the night, and now they shared a look of exhaustion and discomfort.

“We should return to the palace and get ready for today,” Musleen said, standing up and stretching slowly.

Loki nodded; he looked the room over once more. The spells had been removed completely for the first time since the courthouse had been built. There were a few new spells on the walls but nowhere near as many, there hadn’t been time to recast them all.

“It’s probably a good thing that we’re doing this,” Burtchen said. “Gives us a chance to cast spells from scratch properly instead of layering them over each other throughout the years.”

They left the courthouse together and walked out into the courtyard for their horses. Loki’s head hurt from being up all night, and despite the new measures, he still felt uneasy.

“I want it over,” he said as he mounted up on Lightning.

“We all want it over,” Burtchen said, “and very soon it will be.”

Musleen said nothing. He was trying to stay awake in his saddle.

“I should have slept,” he muttered under his breath. “I shouldn’t have let myself grow so tired.”

“It’ll be alright,” Loki said. “We’ll just drink the wake-up tea and push through.”

Musleen nodded and they rode back to the palace in silence.

****

Loki managed a half-hour nap before he had to rise. Technically he didn’t have to go to the courtroom and watch the trial, but everything in him protested. He knew he had to be there; he had to see Fomalen face justice.

He drank the wake-up tea and pulled on a fresh set of clothes before making his way down to the yard to ride with Thor to the courthouse.

Thor immediately noticed that something was wrong.

“What have you been doing?” he asked. “You look exhausted.”

“I went to the courthouse cells to make sure they were sealed,” Loki said. “Musleen and Burtchen were doing the same, no one trusts Fomalen.”

Thor frowned. “He’s not escaped so far, what makes you think the cells could be compromised?”

“A hunch,” Loki said, “a feeling that won’t pass. We put in some preventative measures, but still I feel uneasy.”

Thor reached out and took his hand, before remembering himself and glancing quickly at Loki’s face to see if the action would be well received. Loki smiled at him, and turned his hand upwards to clasp Thor’s properly.

“Everything will be alright,” Thor said earnestly. “And if anything does happen, I will be right beside you, backing you up against him if needs be.”

Loki tightened his grip on Thor’s hand.

“I needed to hear that,” he said quietly as the carriage jolting down the wide road.

They held hands for the rest of the journey, and Loki arrived at the courthouse with a smile on his face.

****

Fomalen was looking smug as he stood on the floor of the courtroom. He smiled pleasantly at the four princes as they entered and even bowed his head in mock tribute to Dorgen.

Loki scowled at him from high up in the viewing gallery. Even with reassurances from Thor, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen.

Dorgen opened the session and Fomalen began a passionate defence of his actions, this time for the usurping of the throne and the lying about the quarantine. He spoke clearly and well, but he was also waffling far more than he had the day before. Loki got the impression that he was stalling, but for what?

Lunchtime came and Fomalen had only addressed about half of the charges against him. Dorgen called for lunch and Loki watched as Fomalen was escorted from the room.

Loki made his way to the dining area, but he’d barely reached the first door when Musleen appeared in his path.

“Come with me, now,” he said in a low voice.

Loki turned and followed him quickly through the passageways until they reached the cells. They were empty.

“No,” Loki whispered.

“According to my men he stepped inside, said a word and then walked into nothingness,” Musleen said. “Is there a portal here? Can you see it?”

Loki summoned the spell and looked hard. He saw it, just, it was fading rapidly from sight as seidr faded.

“It was a portal,” Loki confirmed, “but how? His magic was locked down I swear it, and the room was scrubbed of spells…oh.”

“What oh? What had you seen?” Musleen asked urgently.

Loki scanned the room around him. “There’s travelling spells all over the walls,” he said. “They weren’t there last night, I *swear* they weren’t. But they’re everywhere now, and they’ve been set up so that you don’t need seidr to use them, just the right word of command will do.”

“Where’s he gone?” Musleen asked. “Can you tell?”

Loki scanned the runes, wishing his head wasn’t so heavy with lack of sleep. “Midgard,” he said at last. “He’s gone to Midgard.”

“He could do untold damage if we don’t recapture him soon,” Musleen said. “If he finds a blacksmith to remove the cuffs then we’re all in a lot of trouble.”

“We need to get Thor,” Loki said. 

Musleen immediately looked wary. “I’d prefer not to involve any foreign princes, Dorgen granted you Vanir citizenship, Loki, but Thor is the crown Prince of Asgard-”

“Exactly,” Loki said. “Midgard is under Asgard’s protection, he *needs* to be involved, because *you* can’t go after him without Asgard’s permission.”

Musleen froze as the thought sank in, but only for a moment. Above all things he was a man of the law and he did not waste time arguing a point which was well made. “I’ll fetch him,” he said. “Can you figure out which word opens the portal?”

Loki nodded and turned back to the walls. It was disturbing to see the spells there when he’d seen those very walls scrubbed clean of magic the night before.

****

Musleen headed swiftly down the corridors to the dining area. Luck was with him and he found Thor outside talking to a guard.

“Prince Musleen,” Thor said, seeing him. “I was wondering where Loki is, he normally joins us for lunch.”

“Loki is with me and he would like you to join us,” Musleen said calmly, no trace of his concerns appearing on his face. “We were in the middle of a fascinating discussion about seidr and Midgard and thought you could help us settle something.”

Thor wasn’t stupid. Musleen could see the thoughts behind his eyes as he smiled and said: “I would be happy to.”

He did not mention that Musleen shouldn’t be speaking to him as it could affect the outcome of the trial. He did not ask why Loki felt the need to begin a ‘fascinating discussion’ the moment lunch was called. He did not question anything at all, merely followed Musleen down to the cells.

“So,” he said when they arrived and he took in the empty cell. “He got out then?”

“He managed to open a portal to Midgard,” Musleen said. “Do we have your permission to pursue him?”

Thor nodded. “As the highest ranking Aesir present, I think you have to, for all our sakes,” he said. “I will escort you.”

Musleen nodded as though he expected no less. “Loki? Have you figured it out yet?” he asked.

Loki nodded. “It’s a simple word,” he said. “Very simple, there’s no way he set this up in the time he had.”

“We’ll figure it out when we get him back,” Musleen said. “Let’s go.”

“There’re only five of us,” Thor said.

“I know, but we can’t wait for more, he had this planned, that means he’ll be moving quickly, we may have already lost him,” Musleen said, his face intense.

Loki took a breath. “Open sesame,” he said. The portal opened before him, although he was the only one who could see it. “Walk through here, and be careful, he may have left a trap lying in wait,” Loki instructed.

Musleen drew his sword and walked through, followed quickly by Burtchen and the cell guard. Thor gripped Mjolnir tight in his hand and went through next. Loki followed them, the portal closing behind him as he did so.

They arrived into a part of Midgard that was populated. It was winter and the temperatures were freezing. A high wind was blowing and made them shudder immediately. Loki had a momentary thought about how unfair it was that he should be of Jotun stock and still feel cold. He could change, but that would scare the locals, besides, he wasn’t wholly comfortable with his blue skin.

“We need to track him,” Musleen said, scanning the street. It was empty, the cold and the setting sun had driven the mortals indoors.

“Thank goodness for snow,” Burtchen commented, pointing at the ground. 

There were smudged tracks, hopefully Fomalen’s, although it was no guarantee. They ran down the street in pursuit until they got to an intersection and the tracks became obscured by others. Musleen cursed under his breath.

“I can track him by the cuffs,” Loki said. “Give me a minute.”

He concentrated, once again cursing his tiredness as he fought to make the spell work. After a few long seconds he opened them again and pointed. “They’re this way,” he said.

Loki led them through the streets of the city. The party was silent as the grave as they walked through the harsh, cold wind.

“Broadway,” Musleen said quietly as they came to an intersection. 

“What?” Thor asked.

“This street that we’re on, it’s called Broadway,” Musleen said, pointing at the sign.

“He went down here,” Loki said. “Merchant Street.”

They walked quickly through the fading light and down towards the far end of the street.

“There are docks near here,” Thor said, “and these streets look like warehouses for storage.”

“Do you think he’s planning to negotiate passage? Would any of the mortal ships leave at night?” Burtchen asked.

“I don’t know, we try to leave the mortals alone as much as possible,” Thor said. “Their population was so fragile for so long.”

Loki kept walking, following the lights that only he could see as they slowly caught up with Fomalen. He stopped outside of a warehouse near the end of the street.

“He went in here,” Loki said.

They drew their weapons and tried the door. It was locked, but gave way easily under Loki’s spell. The group headed inside and crept through the darkness, trying to keep the element of surprise.

Loki walked ahead, slowly scanning for the trail that would lead him to Fomalen’s cuffs. He stepped through one room, into another, finally the light was growing brighter, they were almost upon him.

“Careful,” Loki whispered, “he should be on the other side of the door.”

Musleen nodded to the cell guard, who took a hold of the handle and pulled it quickly open.

They ran in and stopped at the sight of the empty room, empty, except for the cuffs which lay hooked across a pipe. The air smelt like gas.

“Run,” Musleen said.

They fled the room just as the gas was ignited by a remote trigger, causing fire to leap out at them in an almighty whoosh.

They dived for the floor and covered their heads as the fire ripped overhead.

“We have to get out of here, now!” yelled Musleen, dragging Burtchen upright as Loki, Thor and the guard scrambled to their feet.

They raced out of the building as the smoke began to build up around them, running out into the snow and wind.

They made it to the relative shelter of an alcove in a nearby building as smoke began to appear at the windows. Spurred on by the winds the fire began to grow.

“It’ll destroy the whole building,” Loki predicted, just as a mortal walked by and saw the smoke.

“Look he’s calling for help,” Thor said and the man ran off yelling.

“Good, we have to get away and find Fomalen,” Musleen said. “But first I need you to send Burtchen back to Vanaheim.”

Loki looked down and saw that Burtchen had a bad burn across his face and down across his back and was panting in pain. He was trying to protest, but Musleen wouldn’t let him.

“Now, Loki, please,” Musleen said.

Loki concentrated and waved his hand, opening a portal back to the healer’s chambers of the palace.

“I’ll come back when they’ve fixed me,” Burtchen swore. “Will Heimdall send me?”

“Just get him seen to,” Musleen said, pushing Burtchen into the guard’s arms.

“Your Grace, you need reinforcements,” he said.

“I *need* my second in command to be healed. If we find him and cannot handle it ourselves Loki will come back for you,” Musleen said.

The guard heaved Burtchen onto his shoulder and stepped through the portal.

The three of them exchanged glances. “We *need* to find him,” Musleen said. 

“How long have we been gone?” Thor asked.

“Fifteen minutes since lunchtime began,” Musleen said promptly as Loki attempted to track Fomalen through his magic.

“There’re bursts of seidr all over the place,” he said. “I think they’re mortals, but those odd ones you told me about,” he added to Thor. “I can see four of them in the immediate area.”

Behind them, the fire was being fought by the mortals, but they were losing, the building would go up in flames.

“I hope they can contain it,” Loki said. “But with the wind as high as it is the fire may well spread to the neighbouring buildings.”

“I’d call down rain to help but it’s too cold,” Thor said. “It’ll freeze on its way down and become a blizzard.”

“We have bigger issues,” Musleen said. “Fomalen *must* be stopped.”

There was a glint in his eye that Loki had seen before, in another time and in another face. His whole being was focussed on Fomalen, like an obsession.

Loki had last seen that look in the face of the King.

It was horrible, sometimes, to see echoes of that monster in the faces of his children. At least Musleen was obsessed with justice and law and not… other things. And he was right, Fomalen was a danger to everyone, they needed to focus.

“Let’s head north,” Loki said. “The seidr is stronger to the north.”

They headed down Merchant Street until they reached Wall Street and tried to navigate their way further north. There were more mortals out and about because of the fire and they had to keep hiding to keep from exposing themselves to the local population.

“This is ridiculous,” Loki muttered. “We should just take the chance of being seen.”

“It’s your protectorate,” Musleen said to Thor. “I would be happy to at your word.”

Thor shook his head. “Not yet, Midgard is to be left alone as much as possible to develop at their own rate,” he said, but he looked worried. “Can we disguise ourselves?”

“Do we have time?” Musleen asked. “We don’t even know if we’re on the right trail.”

“You’re not,” said a voice from the shadows.

They whirled but were too late, as Fomalen threw a spell over them, forcing them to fall to the ground in a faint.

“I love it when everything works out,” Fomalen said to himself as he walked from the shadows. He walked forwards with a knife and plunged it into the centre of Loki’s chest. Then he waved his hands and lifted Thor and Musleen’s prone forms from the ground.

He floated them down the back streets until he reached one of his hideouts, one that had, thankfully, survived the many bouts of fighting that had occurred throughout this mortal city in recent years.

The place was dirty and freezing cold, with grime on the walls and an unpleasant smell which permeated everything. Fomalen dumped the two unconscious men on the ground and turned to start the fire.

He raided his chest of supplies that he’d collected from Vanaheim and Asgard, and pulled out a thick rope with a steel centre. That would do for Thor, he needed information about Asgard that only the crown prince could provide if his new plans were to succeed. Musleen on the other hand…

If he were to carry out his original desires then Musleen would have to be kept alive for now. It was tempting to do so, but at the same time he was a dangerous foe. Perhaps it would be better to just kill him.

Better, but less satisfactory. Loki had been a kill of necessity, but he wanted to take his time over the others if he could.

He bound Thor up tightly and turned to where Musleen lay sprawled on the ground.

Oh yes, he was going to take ever so much time with this. By the time he was done Musleen would be on his knees begging to call Fomalen his master and king.

****

Musleen’s eyes fluttered open as Fomalen tied the last of the knots. He was strung up by his hands and feet, left to hang with his head lower than his body. He could already feel the blood running in the wrong direction.

Fomalen appeared before him and giggled an insane, wild laugh. “Oh good, you’re awake. I’m heating up the poker in the fire right now. We’re going to have a little bit of fun you and I. Well, I am, I don’t know what _you’ll_ make of everything, but I plan to have fun. We’ve got hours and hours here, maybe even days. I’m going to take my time and savour it.”

Musleen refused to answer, anything he said would only inflame Fomalen’s already mad composure. He carefully tested the ropes one at a time; they were solid and well tied. From his position he could see Thor on the ground, bound tightly and still unconscious. Loki was nowhere to be seen.

A hard blow to his buttocks made him wince in surprise. It was followed by another almost immediately. Musleen suppressed a grunt of pain as his shoulders protested at the jolting.

He could hear Fomalen chuckling from behind him. Surely Asgard’s gatekeeper would be watching? Burtchen and the rest of the men would be sent to find them soon.

Perhaps not. Thor had told him long ago that while Heimdall could see everywhere at once, he had to be actively looking at something in order to witness it. If he turned his gaze to find Thor then he’d see, or if Burtchen reported what had happened to Dorgen he might then look, but that might not be any time soon.

Something hot pressed against his left heel and he hissed between his teeth as it started to burn. There was a smell of burning leather mixed with his own skin as Fomalen held the poker in place.

“Shall I do the other foot?” Fomalen asked in a friendly tone. “Give you a matching wound?”

Musleen stayed silent. Fomalen was in no hurry which was fine by him; the guards couldn’t be that far away, Heimdall would let them come down to save Thor and Loki. Where was Loki? He still couldn’t see him.

A cold feeling stole over Musleen as Fomalen pressed the hot poker against his other heel. Loki wasn’t in his sight, Loki wasn’t anywhere, and Fomalen hadn’t mentioned him.

_What had he done to Loki?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone was wondering, the fire in question was the Great New York Fire of 1835. Whoops.


	74. Seventy Three Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Fight for Life

Loki opened his eyes slowly. There was pain in his chest, hard, uncompromising pain. He tried to sit up and the pain became blinding. He looked down at himself and saw a small amount of blood on his clothes and a knife hilt in his chest.

Fomalen had stabbed him right in the centre of his chest. It would have killed a Vanir, it would have killed an Aesir.

But it wouldn’t kill a frost giant. Loki’s heart was set further back and to the side, closer to his left armpit and guarded by ribs that locked in a criss-cross pattern. The centre of his chest was made of hard muscle and cartilage. The wound hurt, oh so much, but he wasn’t about to die from it.

At least, not if he sought help before shock set in properly.

He gently touched the knife where it lay. Pulling it out might well cause more damage, but leaving it in was unlikely to help him catch up with Fomalen. He gently eased the knife out of his chest, gasping in pain as it slid past his injured flesh with a burning sensation. He dropped the knife with a whimper and fought to stay conscious. Slowly the spots in front of his eyes faded and he braced himself to move again. He grabbed his shirt sleeve and ripped it free of his shirt. The wound was beginning to bleed as he held the rolled up sleeve against it and forced himself to rise.

His head spun, his chest burned. This was bad, very, very bad.

Healing spell. He needed to use a healing spell. Loki tried to concentrate but couldn’t get his thoughts to settle. Thor was nowhere to be seen. He must be a prisoner of Fomalen.

Loki had to save him. 

Healing spell. Now.

He managed to raise the seidr and began a rough healing on his flesh. The wound knitted closed enough to stop bleeding, but Loki doubted that it would withstand a blow of any kind. He was in no condition to go after Fomalen.

Too bad; he was doing it anyway.

Loki crawled to his feet and looked around him. Mjolnir was lying on the ground nearby. Fomalen could never have lifted it, neither could Loki, a point that had always strung a little, but right now that was irrelevant. Thor had been taken and he had to find him; that was all that mattered.

Loki leaned against the nearby building as he calmed himself. He could see the fire from the warehouse in the distance and could smell the smoke on the air. Slowly he pulled his thoughts into order and managed to cast the spell to see the magic in the air. Fomalen had moved Thor and Musleen with it and the glow was still strong. Loki must only have been unconscious for a few minutes.

He limped painfully down the street, following the glow with Fomalen’s knife in his hand. If Fomalen had hurt Thor then no spell, no painful wound, no power on this _earth_ would stop Loki from killing him.

The glow disappeared through a doorway in a small, unassuming building not far down the street. Loki paused to catch his breath at the threshold. His head hurt and his chest was burning. He tried to heal himself a little more. When that failed to do anything he summoned a different spell to help him numb the pain. He eased the door open and listened for clues as to where Fomalen might be found.

There was a grunt of pain from within. Loki froze in place. Thor? Maybe. Didn’t matter. Thor was _in there_ and that meant Loki was going in too.

He pushed the door open fully and limped inside. He’d lost control of the spell to see the glow-trail, but he didn’t need it; judging by the noises being made, they were in the basement.

Loki followed the sounds of torture to the stairs. He knelt down carefully at the top and slipped down slowly and quietly.

Fomalen was torturing Musleen. He’d suspended him from the ceiling, facing downwards with his head a little lower than his body. His arms were pulled backwards by the weight of his body and his shoudlers looked painfully stretched. Fomalen had hiked his skirts up and was playing a hot poker over his legs in fast motions. Sometimes it made contact and left a burn, sometimes not. There was the smell of burnt flesh in the air.

Loki swallowed nervously. He couldn’t see Thor from where he was. He could only hope that he was uninjured.

Fomalen put the poker back into the fire and turned to his victim.

“Do you understand why things have turned out this way?” he asked.

“Because you’re insane?” Musleen suggested politely.

“Because I know what I want and I am ambitious enough to get it,” Fomalen said. He reached out and gripped Musleen by the hair, cursing slightly as his fingers slipped through the short strands. “You look better with curls,” he said. “If you live I’ll make you wear curls. I’ll make you wear dresses and let the lords of my court fuck you for fun right in front of me.”

“Charming,” Musleen commented dryly.

“Don’t you realise how serious your situation is? I’ve killed Loki; he’s not coming to save you. Thor is my prisoner, and once he tells me everything about Asgard’s palace and defences he’ll die too. You’ve *lost* Musleen, you and your whole family have lost,” Fomalen spat.

“I disagree,” Musleen said. He had not shown a reaction at Loki’s supposed death, but then Loki hadn’t expected him to. He was far too good of an actor when he wanted to be. “I think you’ve delayed the inevitable, but you haven’t lost. You will be caught and you will die. It’s a shame that Dorgen’s attempt to be a fair and just king had to be overshadowed by your reckless evil. The people will back deaths without a trial because of you; they will push him into tyranny.”

Loki crept slowly down the stairs as they talked; he didn’t take his eyes off Fomalen’s back. 

“Dorgen is weak,” Fomalen spat. “He wants to be seen to do the right thing? _Really?!_ He’s the king, kings don’t *ask*, they don’t *check*, they command, and it is done. Dorgen is the worst king to ever sit on the throne of Vanaheim, and because of that, I will take it from him.”

“Good luck,” Musleen said firmly. “I wish you all the best in your attempt, really, you’ve earned it.”

Fomalen hit him, then leaned in and kissed him. On the stairs, Loki froze. The image was like a dagger, sharp and hard and horrible. Watching someone be _forced_ , watching Fomalen take joy from Musleen’s head jerking instinctively away, watching as he forced himself even closer, ending the kiss with a lick across Musleen’s cheek.

“You need to brush your teeth,” Musleen said. His face was calm, but there was the slightest hint of a tremble in his voice. Loki hoped Fomalen hadn’t heard it.

“Now I’ve had something my brother always wanted,” Fomalen said in a voice laced with lust. “I like having things that others want. I like knowing how much they want it, and watching them decide what they’ll be willing to do to have it.”

Musleen cocked his head to the side slightly. “Hard to negotiate with a dead man,” he said.

Fomalen’s face changed and became ugly. Loki crept down the last of the stairs and tried to prepare himself to strike. He wasn’t sure if his aim would be true given the pain in his chest when he moved. If he missed then Fomalen would kill him, torture Musleen and Thor, and then kill Thor and take the thrones of Vanaheim and Asgard.

So no pressure.

“Thank you for the reminder,” Fomalen spat. “I’ll destroy your brother for that, I’ll make you watch, and I’ll watch *you* decide how much you’re willing to give up to save him.”

“All I have,” Musleen said calmly, “but as I know you wouldn’t take it, I will decline to make you an offer.”

Fomalen grinned at him and headed back to the fire for the poker.

“I know a great many healing spells,” he said conversationally. “They do all kinds of things. I can heal the most devastating injuries to the point that you can no longer tell that they ever existed. Of course, I can also leave you healed but with terrible scars. I can leave your flesh sensitive forevermore, so that the lightest touch will cause you agonising pain. Now, I think you ought to get *much* better acquainted with this poker. Don’t worry, I’ll heal you before you die, but when those Lords fuck you for my entertainment I will take great pleasure in knowing how much it burns your insides. Every. Single. Time.”

He walked back to where Musleen hung helpless and grabbed a handful of his skirts to pull them down far enough to expose his buttocks. Loki took aim, rose and threw the knife in a single movement. 

It missed. Loki’s aim was true but Fomalen saw the movement out of the corner of his eyes and ducked away. Loki cursed and hit the floor as Fomalen retaliated with a destructive spell. Loki managed to raise a shield but he could feel the pressure forcing him backwards. He was in no shape for this.

From the wall that flanked the stairs, Loki heard a noise. Thor was there; out of sight until Loki had reached the bottom and turned. He had woken and was watching the magic fly with wide eyes. 

“Loki!” he yelled, struggling against his bonds.

Loki gripped the stair rail tightly and forced Fomalen’s power back a little. He needed help. He needed backup.

He had his Thor.

Loki gathered his strength and flung himself around the stair rail to the floor. He ran across the small space and scooped up the hot poker from where Fomalen had dropped it, before racing to Thor’s side.

Fomalen grabbed the knife from the other side if the room and charged towards them.

Loki held the poker against Thor’s ropes, they singed at first, but stopped when they reached the metal centre. 

Thor cried out as Fomalen closed in. Loki jerked backwards and threw his arm up, blocking Fomalen’s strike with the poker. Fomalen pressed down hard and Loki felt something tear in his chest. He hoped it wasn’t too important as the area began to burn all over again. Spots began to dance in front of his eyes and Loki felt his arm weakening.

Fomalen drew back and raised the knife to strike the final blow, but was knocked aside by a powerful punch of force to his side. Thor had called Mjolnir to him and Fomalen had been in its path. He lay on the ground groaning in pain as Loki crawled back to Thor and once again tried to break his bonds.

“The metal is too strong,” Loki gasped, fighting the pain in his chest.

“Loki, you’re bleeding, get out of here,” Thor said, even as he struggled.

“No, I can do this,” Loki insisted. “But I have to… I have to change.”

Thor frowned in puzzlement that became a look of surprise as Loki bowed his head and let the blue of a frost giant cover his skin. The temperature, already cold, now became painfully freezing. The fire in the grate went out and the poker’s glow faded to black.

Loki reached out a hand and touched the exposed steel. Thor tried not to grunt in pain as the cold swept through it, turning it brittle and weak.

The rope snapped, Thor pulled it from his body and got to his feet just as Fomalen managed to recover and raise his knife again. He threw, but Thor knocked it away with Mjolnir like it was nothing and kicked Fomalen onto his back. 

Then he put Mjolnir on top of him.

“Stay there,” he instructed unnecessarily.

Fomalen tried to move Mjolnir but could not, then he tried to summon a portal and escape, then he tried to summon anything at all. Mjolnir blocked his magic. Mjolnir blocked *all* magic, as Loki knew all too well.

Thor returned to his side and paused, hands outstretched, but unsure of whether he could close the gap.

“Loki? Are you able to open a portal? We need to get you to a healer, if you can’t I will go outside and summon Heimdall,” he said gently.

“I can do it,” Loki said, looking up carefully to gauge Thor’s reaction to his blue skin.

It was one thing to tell someone what you were; it was another thing for them to see it.

He needn’t have worried. Thor was looking at him with an expression of fascination, bordering on wonder.

“I’ll get Prince Musleen down,” he said softly, “as long as you are sure.”

“If I’m not sure will you leave him up there?” Loki asked with a mischievous smile through his pain.

“Don’t you dare,” called Musleen from where he still hung.

Despite the pain in his chest and the damp patch that told him he was bleeding again, Loki laughed.

“Ow!” he protested as the laughter made his chest hurt.

Thor grabbed Fomalen’s knife and cut Musleen down as Loki turned himself back to his preferred colouring. Musleen winced in pain as his burnt heels touched the ground.

“That’s going to need disinfectant,” he said through gritted teeth. “Loki? Are you sure you can-?”

“I’m sure,” Loki said. 

It wasn’t easy, but with Thor watching him Loki found the strength to open a portal back into the palace cells.

Thor dragged Fomalen through before he could react. The cells were lined with spells to block magic; Fomalen was once again trapped.

The guards let the three of them out and ran for the healers. Thainia arrived just as they locked the cell door behind them.

“What have you been doing?” she asked in alarm, taking in the sight of the wound in his chest.

“It missed the heart, I have Jotun biology,” Loki said as she approached.

“I know. I’ve healed your wounds before, from your grandmother’s heritage, yes?” she asked, getting to work.

Loki and Thor exchanged a glance.

“Yes,” Loki said.

Perhaps he’d tell her one day, perhaps he’d tell everyone one day, but in this moment he didn’t feel like sharing. The large wound in his chest was probably the reason.

“Lunchtime will be over in ten minutes,” Musleen said. “We need to cuff him with new cuffs and get him back to the courthouse. He won’t be going in the cells though.”

“You won’t stop the trial?” Thor asked.

“No. It’s almost over, he’s been found guilty of everything so far, the afternoon will be no different and we can finally end this. He can be sentenced today and hang tomorrow,” Musleen said as one of the palace healers rubbed disinfectant over his legs and feet.

“You should stay here and be healed properly,” Thor said.

Musleen shook his head. “I can’t, I have to be there. Burtchen should be too but I think I can talk my way around that.

Thor knelt beside Loki and gently took his hand. “I’d give anything to stay with you,” he said, “but I need to be there at Fomalen’s trial. I’ll come right back to you I promise.”

Loki grinned at him. The pain was horrible, but Thainia had already managed to stop the bleeding.

“Go,” he said. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

New cuffs were obtained and Fomelan was rushed into a prison transport cart. Musleen and Thor rode in a carriage back to the courthouse at top speed ahead of it. 

Thor looked out of the window of the jolting carriage back at the palace as they pulled away. His face was lined with worry.

“Loki will be alright,” Musleen said. “Thainia is the best healer in the realm. Dorgen asked her to be the royal famiy’s personal healer.”

Thor nodded, but his expression was still one of concern.

“I won’t believe it until I see him well again,” he said. “I still can’t believe he survived a stab wound into the chest.”

“I believe it,” Musleen said. “I would believe almost anything of Loki after knowing him for so long.”

“Are you well?” Thor asked him suddenly, as though remembering that Loki wasn’t the only one who had been wounded by Fomalen’s rage.

“I’ll be fine,” Musleen said. “Once the trial is over I’ll get myself healed properly.”

“They will execute him straight away, won’t they?” Thor asked.

“Tomorrow morning he’ll hang, and believe me, he won’t be getting away again. I’ll make damn sure of it this time,” Musleen said darkly.

They were ten minutes late in arriving for the afternoon session; thankfully Dorgen had been forewarned by the guards and had stalled the other princes. No one in the court had realised that Fomalen had ever escaped.

He was escorted in to the courtroom and left in the defendant’s space. Thor slipped into his assigned seat and watched Fomalen with narrowed eyes.

For the first time since the trial began Fomalen looked nervous. He’d gone very pale.

“Where is the Court Prosecutor?” Dorgen asked, spotting the space where Burtchen should have stood.

“He had to attend a separate matter, your Majesty, and as he had nothing further to add to his case he felt that his absence would not hinder the outcome,” Musleen said.

He was standing gingerly with new shoes on his burnt feet. He had walked well enough to his place in the courtroom, but now that he was there Thor thought he could see him balancing lightly on his toes rather than place his heels on the ground.

“Do our guests agree with that assessment?” Dorgan asked the princes.

They nodded their agreement, Thor the most emphatically.

“Then we shall proceed. Fomalen? Your defence?” Dorgen said.

Fomalen placed his hands on the podium in front of him. They were shaking slightly.

‘Good,’ Thor thought. 

“I… um… I would like to… um… speak in defence of my actions in regards to… um… the last of the charges, that is, the charge of conspiracy to usurp the throne by deceit and trickery,” Fomalen began.

He no longer had the easy air of before, he sounded like a man who finally realised that he was going to die.

Nevertheless, as he warmed up to his topic he managed to recover some of his old flare. He quoted ancient wisdoms, he referred to obscure laws, he even appealed to common sense at one point. It was an impassioned speech, made all the more so by his plight.

Thor sat stoically and watched him with a stern expression. As far as he was concerned everything had been done correctly. Tomorrow, Fomalen would hang.

And Loki would be coming home.

The thought warmed him from his head to his toes. Loki, his Loki, the only one he had ever loved, was going to try and live in Asgard. Such a gift could never be underestimated, just knowing that he was willing to try made Thor feel like the luckiest man in the nine realms.

Assuming that Loki was alright.

The trial lasted for the rest of the day, and Thor was impressed by how long Musleen stayed on his feet without any sign of injury, but at last Fomalen ran out of excuses and Dorgen leaned forward to give his verdict.

“I find you guilty,” he said, “of all charges. I sentence you to death by hanging, to be carried out tomorrow morning at sunrise.”

Fomalen’s shoulders slumped. He looked defeated. As the guard stepped forward to escort him from the room he turned to Musleen and said: “It appears you have been very fortunate in your choice of friends.”

Musleen allowed a single, calm smile to grace his features. “Indeed, I have been very lucky. It is a pity that your choices in life did not allow you to share such luck.”

Thor rose and headed outside. He had done his duty and now all he wanted was to see Loki.

Camtan and Musleen both joined him in the carriage on the way back. Musleen was silent. Camtan was grinning.

“It’s finally over,” Camtan said. “He’s going to die; we’ll be free of him by breakfast.”

“Yes,” Musleen said. “Sunrise isn’t so far away, and we’ll do it in the palace grounds rather than at the execution ground, that way we won’t have to travel anywhere with him.”

“You don’t think he’ll try to escape?” Camtan asked, suddenly worried.

“No,” Musleen said as Thor looked out of the window. “He won’t be given the chance.”

Camtan sat back, relieved. Then he sniffed and pulled a face. 

“What smells like roast meat and ointment?” He asked, sticking his head out of the window and sniffing. “It’s not out there,” he added.

Thor and Musleen avoided each other’s gazes.

“Must’ve been someone’s cooking,” Musleen said. 

“It didn’t smell very appetising,” Camtan said.

Thor pushed the window open a little wider and they sat in silence for the rest of the journey.

****

Musleen and Thor both headed for the healer’s wing as soon as they arrived. 

“Thank you for not telling Camtan anything,” Musleen said as they made their way up the stairs. He was beginning to wince with each step.

“I doubt that you want many people to know that he escaped,” Thor said. 

“Admittedly, it was extraordinary circumstances,” Musleen said. “Very few criminals have unrestricted access to the court cells prior to being imprisoned.”

He slowed down and leaned against the banister.

“Do you need help?” Thor asked.

He was impatient to get to Loki but at the same time it would be incredibly dishonourable to abandon Musleen on his way to the healer’s wing.

“I’m alright,” Musleen lied, pushing away from the banister and taking a few more steps. Thor caught him as he started to stumble and half carried him to the top. “Thank you,” Musleen said.

They reached the healer’s wing and stepped inside, only to be confronted by Dorgen, who was standing tall in the centre of the room and looking stern.

“Well?” he asked imperiously.

Musleen pulled a face. “We had an incident but it was handled,” he said.

He collapsed into a chair and a healer came running up to him. Dorgen’s face changed to shock when he saw the burns on Musleen’s legs.

“What the Hel happened?!” he exclaimed in alarm.

Thor slipped past him into the room beyond, where Loki lay resting.

“Is Dorgen reaming out Musleen again?” Loki asked in amusement. 

“I get the feeling that Prince Musleen did not mention our excursion to Midgard,” Thor said, taking a seat beside Loki’s bed.

“Musleen will do that if you let him,” Loki said. “He’s good at what he does though.”

“We brought Fomalen back,” Thor said. “And he’ll be executed tomorrow at sunrise.”

“Good,” Loki said vehemently.

“Are you well?” Thor asked. “You look better.”

“Thainia fixed me up,” Loki said. “She’s been studying the healing spell Fomalen cast on the knife tip that was embedded in Musleen. It’s seriously powerful, she’s not *quite* gotten it right yet, but she was able to patch me up fairly well. I should be able to get up in time to watch Fomalen’s execution.”

“Do you want to see it?” Thor asked.

“I don’t *want* to, no, but I don’t think I’ll ever sleep easily unless I see it done with my own eyes,” Loki said. 

“I think there’s more than a few people here who feel the same way,” Thor said.

In the other room the shouting quietened down. Thor rose and peeked through the door. Dorgen was sitting beside Musleen as the healer carefully bandaged his feet. He had his arm around his little brother and was holding him tightly.

“You still should have told me,” Dorgen said to him softly. “You could have been seriously hurt, Loki could have *died*, Musleen, you need to be more careful.”

“We were trying to catch up to him before he removed his cuffs and got away. If he’d escaped then we’d never be able to relax, we’d never stop being on edge,” Musleen said. 

“I sent a messenger back to the palace as soon as you said Burtchen wouldn’t be there for the afternoon session. I *knew* there was something wrong with the way you were standing but I never would have guessed you were hiding such injuries. Do you have *any* idea how quickly infection can set in to a burn?” Dorgen asked. 

“You sound like a father,” Musleen said. “Not ours, a better one.”

“I’ve felt like your father more than once watching you grow up,” Dorgen said. “So don’t bloody scare me like this again.”

Musleen chuckled; his face became younger and more mischievous and his eyes sparkled with amusement. Dorgen rolled his eyes and gave him another tight hug.

“No more danger,” he said. “Go home to your wife and have a family, or adopt an alpec for all I care, but no more danger.”

“I promise I will try,” Musleen said.

Thor withdrew and headed back to Loki.

“Everything all right?” Loki asked.

“Fine,” Thor said with a smile. “So, what kind of house were you after?”

Loki grinned. “Are you going to be my guide?” he asked.

Thor shrugged. “I might as well have a look around while you are wrapping things up here. I can weed out the unsuitable ones for you. When were you planning to move?”

Loki smiled at his earnestness. “As soon as possible,” he said, making Thor beam like the sun. “Fomalen will be executed, it’s finally over. I’m eager to get started.”

Thor reached out and gently took his hand. Loki found he liked the feeling of warmth as it spread across his fingers. 

“I’m eager too,” Thor admitted shyly.

****

Fomalen was marched out into a little stone courtyard in the palace as the sun rose the next morning. He was pale and had dark shadows underneath his eyes. His gaze kept darting from one side to the other, looking for an angle, a weakness, some way out.

There was none. Loki watched from a balcony with Thor, Lord Fallconyr, Lord Eadgleyr, Haewkyr and Smairken. Camtan stood on another balcony not far away with Mulmyr, Lyrren, Occtir and Daenceia.

Below, Musleen walked slowly up until he stood before Fomalen. He held out a piece of paper and read from it, although Loki couldn’t make out the words. 

“What is that?” Thor asked, echoing his thoughts.

“The rights of the dead man. It must be read to everyone facing execution. It basically outlines the process of what’s going to happen now. It also gives the man a last chance to confess anything on his soul should he wish to,” Lord Fallconyr said.

“And it appears Fomalen has given the traditional response,” Smairken commented as Fomalen tried to spit in Musleen’s face.

Haewkyr wrapped an arm around Smairken and kissed the side of his forehead. “I was going to say that,” he said dreamily.

“Shut up,” Smairken muttered with a smile.

Fomalen was marched up to the scaffold and a hood was placed on his head. Dorgen and Musleen stood side by side and watched with identical expressions as the rope was put around Fomalen’s neck.

Without meaning to, Loki reached out and took Thor’s hand. Thor squeezed his fingers tightly.

The guard pulled the rope and Fomalen fell. There was a sudden ‘thunk’ as he reached the end of the rope and his neck broke.

“Time for breakfast,” Smairken said in the silence.

“It’s over,” Loki whispered. “At last it’s over.”

Thor raised Loki’s hand to his lips and kissed his fingers gently, a gesture that was not missed by their Grandfather, who hid his smile.

“Yes,” he said instead, breaking the tension. “It is over. Let’s go inside and put this behind us, let’s think about the future under a good and just king.”

They followed him, one by one, back into the palace.

Down in the courtyard Musleen stepped forwards on tender feet and watched as Fomalen’s hood was removed.

He was definitely dead.

“Bury him with his brother,” Dorgen said to the guards. “Do it now. Take him by cart to the burial grounds and do it so the people can see he’s gone.”

They headed inside without looking back as the guards obeyed.


	75. Seventy Four Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Real Goodbye

Saying goodbye this time was completely different. It wasn’t until Loki began to take his leave that he realised how naïve he’d been the last time, and how many people had known it.

Thor left immediately after the trial ended. He said his goodbyes at the Bifrost site and held Loki’s hand to his chest as he promised to see him soon. Loki had wished him well, a warm glow filling his chest even as he watched Thor disappear.

Then he made arrangements to return to Lord Fallconyr’s estates. He had made friends of his cousins and he wanted to say goodbye to them properly.

Haewkyr joined him on his journey, with a reluctant Smairken in tow. Haewkyr wanted his new boyfriend to see the land where he’d grown up, and it was a mark of how Smairken truly felt about him that he agreed to meet the entire family on their own soil.

That didn’t stop him from complaining though. Loki sat in the carriage and listened, with a good humour that couldn’t be quashed, to Smairken’s snide and sarcastic observations about the views, the dust and the smell of horse.

Haewkyr caught Loki’s eye and winked at him during one particularly bitter rant. 

“You’d think he’d never seen the countryside in his life the way he carries on, but *we* know he was born and raised on bog,” he said cheerfully.

Smairken turned red and hunched over with a pout. “I may have been born in a backwater, but I have the city in my soul,” he muttered.

Haewkyr gave him a kiss on the side of his head, making a reluctant smile come to his face.

“I’ll come to the city for you, you come to the country for me,” he said. “I won’t let you get too dirty, I promise.”

****

Loki spent a week in the country, riding Lightning, visiting the local villages and saying goodbye to his relatives. There had been a time when he thought he’d come back here to live out his days when the urge to travel finally left him, now he knew better. This place had always been a waystation, a coaching inn on the road of his life. It had been a sanctuary, but now he was ready to go home.

Haewkyr and Smairken did not travel back with him. Haewkyr gave him a bone-crushing hug and a firm promise to always keep the field shelters at his disposal, but this time it was said in jest. They both knew that their lives were heading in different directions and that the long days spent riding and joking were over. Haewkyr would visit, Loki would visit, but they were both moving on to a new adventure.

It was a lonely ride back to the palace, but it gave Loki time to reflect on what he was doing and whether he was truly sure.

He was. He truly was. With his whole heart, he was sure.

He stayed three days with his grandparents at the palace as he said his goodbyes at the Tower and in the city.

Shiarpia gave him a hug and promised to visit when the Thunder Boys went back on tour. 

Thainia gave him a medical kit full of ointments she’d made herself, perfect for a mage practising alone.

Daenceia took him for a walk through the private gardens so that they could talk properly.

“I never thought that we would become such good friends,” she admitted as they made their way across the lawns. 

“Me either,” Loki admitted. “You surprised me, more than once.”

“Are you going to marry Thor?” Daenceia asked suddenly. Loki looked at her in surprise, which made her laugh. “There is literally no one who saw the two of you interact who is not wondering when the wedding will be, not if, _when_ ,” she said.

Loki smiled and ducked his head.

“It’s too early to say,” he said. “All I want right now is to prove to myself that I’m ready to live in Asgard, I’ll tackle the rest of it all when it comes.”

“For what it is worth, you seem a lot calmer than the last time you left here,” Daenceia said. “I worried for you, we all did. Musleen assured me that you would be alright, but he also said that it would take you time, and that you needed to decide who you were.”

“He’s scarily perceptive sometimes,” Loki said.

“He’s scarily perceptive all the time,” Daenceia said.

“What are your plans now that the trials are over and you have him back?” Loki asked.

“He’s still getting the palace and realm security back in order, but he did say something about wanting to take a holiday, maybe as far as the Falls in the west,” Daenceia said. “I don’t think that will be for a while though, I married a man who is tied to his work.”

“Not to mention that he spent all this time asleep rather than fighting,” Loki said. He held his hand up quickly as Daenceia opened her mouth to speak. “That’s not a criticism, merely a statement of fact; he was never made weary by the fighting, or the stress of loss and eventual victory. He doesn’t need a break to resettle himself the way everyone else does.”

“You are right,” Daenceia conceded. “I think his suggestion was more for me than him, although I know he’d like to see it.”

“Can Dorgen spare him?” Loki asked.

“I doubt it, but he wants Lyrren to take up some of the responsibilities, and Occtir has already returned to the army. I think he has plans of becoming a general one day. Musleen will always be the head of security, but Burtchen is extremely competent, oh, I don’t know *what’s* going to happen, but we’ll figure it out,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

“Do you want children?” Loki asked, curious.

Daenceia nodded. “I do, and so does he, but not *just* yet. He wants us to spend some time just being… _us_. I have to say I agree with him, there’s plenty of time, and I love the thought of the two of us exploring the realm.”

Loki nodded. “I can understand that,” he said, thinking of his carefully made list.

“I will write to you,” Daenceia promised as he took his leave.

“And I you,” Loki replied, giving her a hug.

****

Loki’s conversation with Camtan was brief. With Fomalen dead the worry and stress of the war seemed to have melted away from Camtan’s face, leaving it cheerful and sunny. He and Sofftia had already made plans to visit her father in the High Mountains, and he was busy packing everything away.

“Don’t you have servants for this?” Loki asked him from the doorway as he watched Camtan fold up his robes and stack them on the bed.

“I’ve discovered a new-found appreciation for storage,” Camtan joked. “Given how much of Fomalen’s things I had to pack away.”

“I came to bid you farewell, I’m leaving for Asgard tonight,” Loki said.

Camtan grinned at him. “Good, go and be with Thor, you two belong together.”

“Does everyone know about us?” Loki asked.

Camtan grinned. “Yeah, you two weren’t exactly subtle. Go and be happy, Loki, you deserve it.”

“Are you happy?” Loki asked. “I know how the war affected you.”

Camtan fought to keep the smile from his face. “Kietyr came running up to me this morning demanding that I play flyers with him,” he said. “I’m… all right. I have nightmares and moments when I still feel the terror of capture, but when something like that happens I know that things will be all right.”

“I hope you visit me in Asgard one day,” Loki said.

“We will, we’ll go dancing,” Camtan said with a smile. “See you in the future, Mother-Loki.”

****

Musleen was at the courthouse, carefully writing out the last of his report into Fomalen’s treachery, trial and execution. His feet and legs had healed while Loki had been gone, and he looked ready to move on from the whole thing.

“I came to say goodbye,” Loki said, knocking on the door.

“Off to be with Thor?” Musleen asked with a smile.

“Not right away,” Loki said, giving in and accepting that everyone in Vanaheim apparently knew of his plans with Thor, “but maybe one day, it’s what I want, so I’m going home to find out if I can achieve it.”

“You’ll do it,” Musleen said. “I’ve yet to see you fail at anything you truly wanted.”

It was Loki’s turn to smile as Musleen rose and poured them both a glass of wine.

“Did you figure out how Fomalen escaped from his cell?” Loki asked.

“I did indeed,” Musleen said, handing him the glass. “I considered the type of man Fomalen is, and the type of mage, and then instructed the court mages to look for a tiny bead or splinter that might have a re-casting spell written on it, much like the one that was embedded in my chest for so long.”

“They found one?” Loki asked. 

“Indeed, pressed into the wall at the far end. It recast the spells in such a way that they should have been hidden to prying eyes. The only reason they stood out at all was because *we’d* scrubbed away all the others.”

“I thought there was something odd about the walls when I looked at them, but I couldn’t figure out what it was,” Loki said.

“No doubt you could see Fomalen’s spells behind the court ones, but they were too obscured to truly see what they were meant to do,” Musleen said. “They’re gone for good now, we’ve made sure of it. Otherwise anyone who knew the activation word could open a portal to Midgard.”

“We don’t want that,” Loki said. “Not ever.”

Musleen nodded and reached into his desk drawer. “I thought you’d come here to say goodbye, and I have a parting gift for you,” he said, bringing out a large, heavy parcel. Loki accepted it, intrigued. “I wanted to tell you how much I admire you,” Musleen said, a little awkwardly. “You endured something utterly horrific here in Vanaheim, and yet when I speak to you all I see is loyalty and dedication to our people. You’ve managed to turn into a confident, powerful man despite everything that has happened to you. I believe that you deserve every happiness, and I truly hope that you achieve it.”

He’d gone red as he’d spoken; Musleen was not normally prone to speaking his feelings.

Loki opened the parcel; it was a collection of books of dark seidr.

“Were these Fomalen’s?” Loki asked.

Musleen nodded. “I know you’ve always been curious about the darker magic,” he said, “and frankly, there is no one I trust more than you to keep them safe.”

Loki almost hugged him, but managed to restrain himself, neither one of them were particularly free with their affections even when they were feeling emotional. The books themselves were a wonderful gift, but the simple act of Musleen placing his trust in Loki was without price. Loki, who had been so unstable, who had struggled to go a few minutes without screaming, who had broken down completely and been left sobbing in fear. Now he was being trusted with some of the darkest, most dangerous books in the nine realms. It was a small act that nevertheless said, with no words at all, that Musleen did not think of him as insane. 

“I wish that we had met under different circumstances,” Musleen said as Loki looked over the covers of the books. “But I am glad that we met. I was honoured then to call you my mother, and I’m honoured now to call you my friend.”

****

The last person Loki sought out was Fosxyr. He had changed little from the day Loki had arrived. His hair was still flaming red, his smile was still broad and open, his eyes were still kind.

“I’ve missed you, Fosxyr,” Loki said as soon as he’d entered the room.

Fosxyr looked up from his packing. He was going with Camtan and Sofftia to the High Mountains and was helping to pack for the children.

“Your Grace,” he said in greeting. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Surely as the uncle of two Princes you shouldn’t be doing this?” Loki asked.

Fosxyr grinned at him. “As a servant of long standing and with a lot of pride in his work I’d say I must insist that I do, your Grace,” he answered, eyes twinkling.

“Camtan is packing his own things,” Loki said.

“What a good boy,” Fosxyr said.

“I’m going to Asgard to live,” Loki said. “I’ll have a house of my own in the city, and a small number of servants. I’ve never stayed in a place like it before.”

“It’ll be an adventure, your Grace,” Fosxyr said.

“And you, Fosxyr? Are you happy with your own adventure?” Loki asked, gesturing to the clothes on the bed.

“I am a commoner, your Grace; I’ll always be a commoner. I need no wealth or status to tell me who I am. I am proud of my work as a servant and my family, *both* sides of my family, respect me for it,” Fosxyr said. 

Loki nodded; it made sense in a way. Change might be happening in Vanaheim but it was still slow and hesitant, on both sides.

“I’ll miss you,” Loki said. “I never got the chance to thank you for taking care of me, for putting up with my temper and my tears. I want to say thank you now, before I leave, because without you I know I never would have made it.”

Fosxyr blinked hard to clear the tears that welled in his eyes.

“I was told to take care of you, your Grace, and by the Norns that’s what I was going to do,” he said in a thick-sounding voice. “I did my duty; I do not need to be thanked.”

“Yes you do. I owe you my sanity and maybe even my life,” Loki said earnestly. “If you ever need anything, anything at all, you are welcome to call on me and ask.”

“You saved my life too, remember? Rather more dramatically too. I think we’re even, but when I retire, if I ever come to Asgard, I would be honoured if you were to receive me,” Fosxyr said.

Loki hugged him. He might not be all that free with his feelings but Fosxyr had been a parent, confidant, friend and ally when he’d needed one. If anyone deserved a hug it was him.

“Go home, your Grace, go home and be happy,” Fosxyr said, hugging him tightly back.

**** 

Thor was in a state of agitation. He had returned to Asgard determined to find just the right house for Loki to live in. It had to be large enough for his work, cosy enough for comfort, grand enough for a prince yet simple enough for Loki’s elegant tastes.

Not to mention that it had to be close enough to the palace so that Thor could visit. Loki hadn’t specified such a requirement but Thor remained optimistic that Loki wouldn’t mind being close.

Of course it couldn’t be close enough to actually have a view of the palace; Thor wasn’t an idiot.

There was only limited time before Loki arrived as well, which only added to Thor’s concerns. How could he possibly find the right place in time?

Naturally, when faced with such a mighty task he did the only sensible thing to do and asked his mother for help.

Frigga had stayed in Asgard while Thor was on Vanaheim. Despite her divorce from Odin she was well connected in Asgard and, as the crown prince’s mother she had kept up a steady line of communication and advice, now she walked through yet another house just off the main street of the city and inspected it with a polite air.

“It’s a lovely home,” she said, “but I do not see it suiting Loki, he needs a larger workroom, and a bigger garden.”

Thor nodded reluctantly. Loki was coming home *tonight* and they hadn’t found a single place that seemed suitable.

“I think we might have to go a little further out,” Frigga said to him as they left the house, “somewhere in the spice district.”

“The spice district?” Thor said, “Why there?”

“The spice merchants have money, so their houses are often large. They do business from home and many of them are mages, so they have large workrooms, the lands on which the houses are built tend to be bigger, with gardens for growing trial crossbreeds. I think it’s what Loki would be looking for,” Frigga said.

Thor’s shoulders slumped. “The spice district is quite far from the palace,” he said.

“An hour and a half’s ride away,” Frigga said. “Not that far for a determined suitor.”

Thor blushed red from his beard to his hairline. “I suppose,” he conceded. “Do we have time to go out and see the houses there?”

“Loki is due to arrive in eight hours, so we can begin our search.” Frigga said. “But don’t worry, Thor, if we do not find something then he will take rooms in a tavern of resting house until he finds he own place.”

“I wanted to find him the best house,” Thor said.

“There’s something to be said for looking together,” Frigga said with a smile.

Nevertheless they headed out to the spice district and located the houses that were currently available to rent or buy.

The first was too small, the second was five stories and narrow all the way up, the third was almost perfect, but the garden was non-existent. 

The fourth was perfect. The ground floor had a reception room of a decent size at the front, with a kitchen and store areas at the rear. Through the kitchen was the door to the garden, which had a patio, a small lawn, and multiple garden beds on varying levels, creating a pretty visual effect. The first floor had two good sized bedrooms with a connecting bathroom. The view from the main bedroom was of the spice market, and Thor looked out reluctantly at the bright colours and the trees that lined the well-maintained streets. Loki would love this view, he thought. The second floor had a workroom and more storage, for magical ingredients. 

“It’s just right,” Frigga said.

“Yes,” Thor replied, a little reluctantly. “Will you be available to show my brother through tomorrow?” he asked the landlady, who nodded eagerly. She was a little star struck by having the Crown Prince in her kitchen.

“Good,” Thor said. “We’ll be back in the afternoon.”

He might want Loki close to him, but that wouldn’t be the best for Loki and more than anything he wanted to do what was best for Loki.


	76. Seventy Five Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming Home

Loki packed the last of his things and slung his bag over his shoulder. He was ready. Lightning had gone on ahead of him. He had no great mountains of luggage to pack, it was time.

He opened the door to leave and found a servant about to knock.

“Yes?” Loki asked politely.

“His Majesty, King Dorgen, requests your presence in his workroom,” the servant said.

Loki smiled. “I’d better head over then, hadn’t I?” he said.

Dorgen had been busy. In the aftermath of Fomalen’s trial and execution he had finally had time to turn to the rebels who helped him recapture his crown. Every day he had been rewarding someone with money, land, titles and honours. 

Loki had sent him a message to tell the king that he was leaving, but had not received a response. In all honesty he had not expected one; he knew how busy being a king could be and he certainly didn’t believe that he deserved Dorgen’s attention more than those who had fought with him since the beginning.

Still, it was nice to be remembered.

Loki reached Dorgen’s door and waited for the servant to announce him. The door opened a moment later and Loki stepped through.

Dorgen was at his desk, and he looked up with a smile.

“Loki,” he said by way of acknowledgement. “I can’t believe you were trying to sneak away without saying goodbye.”

Loki opened his mouth to protest that he’d sent Dorgen a note but he stopped when he saw the twinkle of humour in Dorgen’s eye.

“So sorry to have hurt your feelings, your Majesty,” Loki said with a smile.

Dorgen gestured for Loki to sit. “I wanted to speak to you about your finances,” he said as Loki made himself comfortable.

“Finances?” Loki asked, confused.

“You are the Dowager Queen of Vanaheim, you have a pension that you have never collected,” Dorgen said. “At first I was afraid to give it to you, your time as our queen was painful in the extreme and I doubted whether you would appreciate the reminder. I put it aside so that it would be waiting for when the time was right. Of course then you left to go travelling, and *then* we had the Fomalen incident-“

“Is that what they’re calling it?” Loki asked.

“Musleen lives to be understated,” Dorgen said dryly. “My point is that you are owed rather a lot of money by the crown.”

“I don’t want it,” Loki said. “I mean, it’s alright, I have…”

He paused. Without the heterwart trade he had no real money to speak of. Thor was paying for his house in Asgard and was planning to give him an allowance until he could make his own money. Loki didn’t like it, but his allowance as a prince of Asgard had ended the day he married. This pension from Vanaheim was simply a continuation of his allowance as queen, albeit probably a good deal smaller.

He had been hoping to become independent from Thor as soon as possible; he didn’t want to feel as though he owed anyone anything.

“It’s just money, Loki,” Dorgen said softly. “I know that it comes with a label that you never wanted, and I want to stress that this is not…ah…”

“Payment?” Loki suggested. “Because if it’s payment then that makes me a whore.”

Dorgen winced. “It’s not payment,” he said. “The crown has always had pensions for those who marry royalty and are then widowed. The pension is so that you can continue to live in the comfort you had when you were married. It lasts until you marry someone else.”

Loki shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “It makes sense to accept it,” he said, looking miserable, “but I can’t, I just *can’t*.”

“I understand,” Dorgen said with kindness in his eyes. “It was my duty to offer it.”

“I understand that,” Loki said.

He’d pay Thor back for the house and his expenses as soon as he made money of his own.

“So that just brings us to your reward,” Dorgen said.

“What?” Loki asked.

“I believe you helped to liberate Vanaheim and save my realm from a power-mad tyrant?” Dorgen said calmly. “I am rewarding everyone else, your mother for example, for her loyalty. You were instrumental in Fomalen’s downfall; it would be remiss of me to let you go without acknowledgement.”

Loki’s mouth turned down. “Is it the same thing, only with a different label?” he asked suspiciously.

“No. Your pension will remain in the royal coffers until such time as you choose to claim it, *if* you ever choose to claim it. This is a reward, from a grateful king to a loyal citizen. You are a citizen, Loki, I made you so myself.”

Dorgen rose and went to the bookshelf along the wall. He picked up a box and returned to the desk.

“This is for you, in thanks for everything you have done for Vanaheim and for me,” he said seriously, handing Loki both the box and a piece of parchment with the royal seal stamped at the bottom. It was an official declaration of Dorgen’s gratitude. 

“Thank you,” Loki said in a whisper. His throat had closed up for some reason and the world had gone slightly blurry. He put it down to dust, yes, definitely dust.

“You are one of the bravest men I know,” Dorgen said. “And the strongest, you are certainly one of the most stubborn. I am ashamed to think of how our association began and have wished more than once over the years that I had not been such a suspicious idiot, and no matter where your life takes you, I promise that you will always be welcome in Vanaheim. I once said I was old enough to be your father and I want you to know that I consider you family, not by your farce of a marriage, but by the blood you were willing to shed for this land and for me.”

The _definitely dust_ had caused one of Loki’s eyes to leak. He brushed the tear away roughly.

“I can’t say I liked you much either when we first met,” he said. “I’m glad we were both wrong. Thank you for your gift, and I promise that I won’t be forgetting Vanaheim. I will be back to see my family, *all* of my family.”

****

Thor stood by the Bifrost and tried not to pace nervously. Loki was thirty minutes late. Heimdall had advised Thor that Loki had been called to a last minute meeting with King Dorgen, but he still worried. What could they be talking about? Was Loki reconsidering his decision to move back to Asgard? He wouldn’t, would he?

Heimdall activated the Bifrost and Thor whirled to attention. A moment later Loki was *there* in front of him. 

He was really here. In Asgard. They were going to make this work.

Thor gave Loki a smile which was returned, much to his relief.

“I’ve taken lodgings on your behalf above a tavern in the town for a few nights,” Thor said. “I didn’t think you’d want to spend the night in the palace, and there’s a house in the Spice District that Mother helped me find, we think it will be perfect for you. We can go and look at it tomorrow, if you want to.”

To his relief, Loki looked pleased with his announcement.

“It’s good to see you again too, Thor. That sounds great. I can’t wait to find a place and get everything set up,” he said. Then he paused. “The Spice District is quite far from the palace, isn’t it?” he asked.

Thor nodded. “About an hour and a half’s ride,” he confirmed. “But I couldn’t find anything closer that was right for you.”

He paused then, worried that Loki would find the fact that he’d looked closer to be controlling somehow, but Loki just smiled at him.

“I guess you’ll just have to fly then, won’t you?” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

Thor grinned and led him out to where the horses were waiting.

****

Loki told himself to breathe calmly. Despite his outer shell he couldn’t help but feel nervous. Back on Vanaheim his list had seemed so achievable, but now that it was happening he felt just a slight hint of panic. 

What if he couldn’t do it? What if he was fooling himself? What if he could never be with Thor?

No. He could do this, one step at a time. 

Step one: Return to Asgard Permanently. He was doing that right now. He would stay in the tavern until he found a house. He would move in and live by himself. He would *do* this.

Loki mounted up on Lightning and turned to grin at Thor. “I packed a feast in my bag, will you join me for dinner tonight?” he asked.

Thor looked at his bag doubtfully.

Loki chuckled. “It’s spelled, trust me, there’s plenty in there.”

Thor smiled at him. “I would love to join you,” he said. “The first of the food shipments arrived yesterday, and I hope to see many more soon.”

“I brought chocolate,” Loki said. “Vanaheim is the only realm that grows cocoa, I can’t imagine that you’ve had any for a while.”

Thor grinned. “Technically cocoa is a Midgardian plant, but you’re right, with our policy of non-interference it has been a long time since I had any.”

“A tragedy indeed,” Loki said.

They rode down the length of the Bifrost and through the town to the tavern. It was an old favourite of both of the princes in times past. Thor tied up the horses as Loki entered and looked around for the owner.

His name was Modeyr and he’d owned the tavern for a thousand years, and his father several thousand before that. He caught sight of Loki in the doorway and walked up, beaming.

“Your Grace! It is good to see you again after so long!” He said cheerfully. “Has your brother accompanied you?”

“Thor’s outside,” Loki said. “He told me you had a room for me?”

“Yes, upstairs, your Grace. Please follow me,” he said, leaning Loki towards the stairs behind the bar.

Thor appeared in the doorway and Loki waved him forwards as he headed after Modeyr.

The room was large and comfortable, with a bed and a small, private bathroom attached. Loki pout his bag down and nodded to Modeyr. “It’s ideal, thankyou,” he said.

Modeyr handed him the key and gave him and Thor a small bow before leaving them alone.

“Is it alright?” Thor asked as soon as they were alone.

His concern made Loki want to laugh. In the last one hundred and thirteen years he’d stayed in some truly terrible places, compared to those this room was a luxury.

“It’s fine, Thor, truly. I will be truly comfortable here, and tomorrow we can see that house you’ve found.”

“It’s just the right size for you,” Thor said eagerly. “The bedrooms and large and it has a workroom and a place for storage, and a little garden for growing herbs. I hope you’ll like it,” he finished awkwardly, suddenly aware of the way he was leaning forwards.

Loki longed to take him into his arms and hug him tightly; he wanted to assure Thor that things between them would be okay.

But he couldn’t make that promise, not yet.

“Let’s have dinner,” he said, gesturing to the little table in the corner of the room.

They sat down and Loki began to pull parcel after parcel of food out of his bag. His couldn’t help but laugh at the growing look of impressed shock on Thor’s face as he revealed a small banquet. 

“I didn’t want you to go hungry,” Loki said. 

It was a good feeling, making Thor speechless. Loki found that he wanted to do it again.

To his relief, the conversation flowed easily. After so long Loki had feared a build-up of tension or awkward silence, but Thor seemed interested in Loki’s travels, and Loki wanted to know all about Asgard and the rationing. 

“How bad did it get?” Loki asked as Thor polished off the last of the food.

“The poorest of the people had to be fed by the palace. The palace kitchens were making stews on a grand scale every day and the lines were so long that some people were getting back line as soon as they’d finished eating. We had to start a ticket system to ensure fairness,” he said.

“That must have been a massive undertaking,” Loki said.

“It was, but soon it will be over. There will be food in the markets again, although the ration system must stay in place until things are back to how they used to be,” Thor said. “But enough about it all. I’ve been doing nothing but worrying about our people for forty three years. I want to hear about your travels, where did you go? What did you see?”

Loki grinned and launched into an account of his travels with Sigyn. He described some of the trouble they got into and made Thor roar with laughter at some of their solutions.

“She told me she’d visit one day, I must send her a message telling her where to find me,” Loki said. “I’d like you two to meet, she was… a good listener when I needed one.”

For a moment they just looked at each other, over three hundred years of pain lying between them like a chasm. Loki thought he could see tears forming in Thor’s eyes.

“I should let you rest,” Thor said, standing quickly. “I’ll come by in the morning so that you can visit the house. Don’t worry about Lightning, I put him in the tavern stable already.”

Loki stood and took a deep breath. He knew why Thor was going; he was trying so hard not to pressure Loki or make him feel trapped into something he wasn’t ready for.

It was the sort of thoughtfulness that made Loki want to throw himself into Thor’s arms and never let go.

‘Not yet,’ Loki thought to himself sternly. ‘Don’t rush in like a bloody fool. Step one *only*. Be sure.’

As Thor turned and shot Loki one last smile, Loki felt a warm glow inside. Step one seemed less like a possibility and more like a certainty.

**** 

That night Loki sat on the bed and listened to the sound of the streets growing quiet. He was here, back in Asgard. There was a feeling in the air that he couldn’t describe. 

He felt like he’d come home.

He frowned as a thought occurred, and rose to pull Dorgen’s gift from his bag. It had been impolite to open it in front of him, and seeing Thor had driven the thought of it out of Loki’s head.

He sat back on the bed and opened the box.

That sly bastard.

That absolutely sly, tricky, *sneaky* bastard.

Dorgen had given him a velvet lined box upon which lay twenty perfectly shaped diamonds and ten perfectly shaped emeralds. It was a small fortune, enough to buy his house, enough to invest in the heterwart, enough to be independent. 

Loki examined the official parchment of gratitude. It was mostly impersonal with official writing in the historical style, but there was a small section left over for the king to write something in his own hand should he choose to. 

_Loki,_

_The diamonds are for saving my realm. They are for you to use as you see fit. The emeralds are for saving my family, and I know you will put them to good use._

_Dorgen, King of Vanaheim._

Loki trailed his fingers thoughtfully through the emeralds; they were each the size of a marble, the perfect size for mind magic.

If he set them into a coronet then with the right spells he could create something similar to Dorgen’s crown. It wouldn’t allow him to control anyone, and after his experience he would never want to, but he’d be able to read deceit in someone’s mind or tell Thor when someone was trying to cheat the crown.

Thor had called the citizens of Asgard *their* people.

Alone in his room, Loki grinned.


	77. Seventy Six Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Up... and Down

The following morning Thor arrived before Loki had even finished breakfast. He came up to Loki’s room with a sheepish look on his face.

“I thought you’d want to start early,” he said. “I may have miscalculated how early.”

Loki gestured for him to sit.

“Have some bread,” he said, eyeing the lack of meat on Thor’s bones. “You weren’t far wrong, I do want to get an early start. Help me finish this so we’ll be done faster.”

There wasn’t that much to finish, coming home before the large shipments of food returned to Asgard had reinforced to Loki how much they had suffered during their isolation. His breakfast had consisted of three modest bread rolls and a little jam. Even the butter was in short supply, as cattle had been slaughtered early on rather than allowing them to starve to death as feed became scarce.

Thor tried to turn down the roll, but Loki was insistent. 

“I can get more food sent to me; do you think Grandmother would let me starve? He’d send you a basket too if you asked him.”

Thor shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I’m not sure the crown prince of one realm should be asking his grandmother in another for food,” he muttered. “It would cause a minor scandal if anyone found out.”

Loki nodded; it probably would. 

“I’ll ask then, and you can come and eat with me, no one has to know,” he said.

Thor’s cheeks turned red at his words, and Loki realised that he’d casually invited Thor to an untold number of visits.

And why not? They were brothers and friends, they *should* be close, they should share meals all the time, even if things never progressed.

Loki swallowed the last of his roll and stood.

“Let’s go,” he said.

****

Thor led the way to the spice district. It was one area that had only suffered a little from the isolation, as the most exotic spices were found in Muspelheim and Alfheim. Vanaheim had its own of course, but its main export had always been bulk staples.

Loki could smell the spices in the air as he rode through the streets at Thor’s side. Their appearance in the spice district drew attention, and Loki caught more than a few staring eyes.

He felt slightly annoyed. He was here, where else would they like him to be? He had a right to live where he chose. Just because everyone expected a prince to live in the palace didn’t mean he had to!

He took a deep breath and told himself to be calm. It *was* unusual for a prince to rent a house far away from the luxuries of the palace. They had a right to be curious. He just had to go about his business, and in a little while he would no longer be a curiosity.

Be calm. Be still. Don’t let them get to you.

Thor turned down a side street and rode almost to the end. There was a small courtyard with a fountain surrounded by house fronts. Tall trees provided shade and cooled the air around them.

“It’s this one,” Thor said, dismounting and gesturing to a house on the corner.

Loki dismounted as a woman came out of the house and walked towards them.

“This is Hoswif, the owner,” Thor said. “If you like the place she’s agreed to a rent of ten gold coins a week.”

A decent enough asking price, if the house was as good as Thor had described. Loki stepped forwards and greeted her with a smile.

“My Prince,” she said, sounding a little awed.

“Mistress Hoswif, my brother has told me that you have a fine house to rent. May I look inside?” Loki asked smoothly.

She nodded and gave a little bow before leading them indoors. The small crowd that had gathered to watch settled in by the fountain and tried to look as though they had other reasons for being there.

Loki stood in the front entrance and looked around him. It was a good size so far, with decent windows for letting in the light. Nothing, of course, compared to the tall, multi-story windows of the Vanir palace, but then Loki had always found such things ostentatious. He took in the rooms with a discerning eye.

“I see furniture, is that included in the rent?” Loki asked.

“It is, your Grace, although if you wish it it can be removed to make room for your own things,” Hoswif said.

“No, I have no things at present, I’d be glad to have use of yours,” Loki said.

Hoswif looked halfway between relieved and alarmed.

“They’re not overly grand, your Grace,” she cautioned.

Loki shrugged. “Neither am I, after my travels. They’ll do just fine. I would like to see the workrooms, if I may?”

“Of course, your Grace, the stairs are this way,” she said and led him to the upper floors.

Loki examined the workroom while Thor hovered nervously in the background. He was worried that he had underestimated his brother’s requirements.

“These are good,” Loki said. “Although I should like to take you up on your offer to clear this room, I would prefer a sturdier workbench, and some stronger shelves, I deal in potions rather than spices and something more robust would be better. I’ll acquire those myself.”

“Of course, your Grace, I’ll get my son and his friends over this afternoon to clear it,” Hoswif said promptly.

Loki smiled. “Ten gold coins a week?” he confirmed.

“If it pleases your Grace,” Hoswif said. Her hastily covered expression revealed to Loki that she was hoping it did please him, as she wasn’t sure how one negotiated with a prince.

“It’s perfect,” Loki said, assuring her of his honour. He wouldn’t be taking something for less than it was worth just because he had power and she didn’t. “When can I move in?”

“I’ve kept it clean since the last tenant moved out,” Hoswif said. “The day after tomorrow? I’ll go over it again once the workroom is clear and make sure it’s all ready for you, your Grace, and I’ll get my son to stack the log pile for the fire so you can have a week to get settled before you order more.”

“That’s very generous of you,” Loki said. “Shall we sign the lease?”

They went back downstairs to the living room, where Hoswf produced the lease and waited while Loki read it. It was fairly straightforward, and he signed it without needing further clarification.

Thor was sitting in the other chair. He was resting his arms on the rests and tightened his grip as Loki signed, but then it was done and the decision for Loki to live so far away was made.

It was the best house for him, Thor reminded himself, and that was all that mattered.

“I’ll need to organise a servant,” Loki said as they rode back towards his lodgings, “and a cook, I can’t cook anything other than camp food and frankly I don’t think anyone eats that unless they don’t have a choice.”

“You could ask Volstagg how it’s done,” Thor suggested. “He lives in a house in the city, his wife handles most of the day to day running, but they have two servants so that she can spend more time with the children, I’m sure she’d be happy to give you advice.”

“Good idea,” Loki said, “Will he be at the palace today? I can go and ask him.”

“He’s with Fandral on patrol, but they are expected back tonight. We were thinking of going to a tavern. Hogun has returned from Vanaheim today and it’s been a long time since we were all together,” Thor said. There was a moment of silence before he suddenly spoke. “Would you like to join us?”

Loki thought fast. Spending time with friends in a place like a tavern was on his list, it was number 2! For a second he felt off kilter, as though the world was moving too fast and he wasn’t ready, he’d only just come home!

What convinced him was Thor’s shy look. He’d never seen his brother look shy before, or nervous, or uncertain. Thor was trying to go at Loki’s pace, and he was genuinely concerned that his invitation had been too fast.

“I’d like that,” Loki said, trying to calm the beating of his heart. “It’s been centuries since we all went out together.”

“I’ll warn you now, the mead is hideously expensive,” Thor said. “Brewing it hasn’t been much of a priority lately. I’ve started paying my way wherever I go.”

Loki frowned, of course Thor should… but they hadn’t. In their youth Thor and Loki had always been given their drinks for free at any tavern they visited, a perk of their royal blood. It felt strange to confront it now after so long thinking about things differently.

“That’s a good thing,” Loki said, so as to be sure that Thor understood his pause properly. “We shouldn’t deprive the merchants of their honest earnings, especially at such a difficult time, and the higher price of mead should mean that we won’t be bothered by drunkards.”

Thor chuckled. “Somehow they still find a way,” he said. “But I’ll see what I can do about keeping them out of your way. Shall we come by and collect you or do you want to meet us at the tavern? We’ll probably start at the Road’s End.”

“I’ll meet you there,” Loki said. “I remember well where that one is and it’s not too far from my lodgings.”

Thor nodded in acknowledgement. “The first drink is on me, but I’ll bring you some gold to tide you over until your heterwart trade is back up and running.”

Loki smiled the warm smile of someone who knows something the other person does not. “I won’t be needing that after all,” he said. “I have been rewarded for my part in the resistance on Vanaheim and as a consequence, have found myself in a good position, but I do need to visit a jeweller when we get back to the main part of town. After that I’m going to hunt down a carpenter and have a proper workbench made to my specifications, *then* I’m going to draft some letters to the traders I used to work through and get that up and running as quickly as possible.”

“You’re certainly going to be very busy,” Thor said, trying not to sound disappointed and failing.

“If you’re free you could accompany me to the jewellers,” Loki offered. “And it may take a while to locate a good carpenter, if you fancy staying in the city for the afternoon?”

Thor nodded. “I’m not doing anything,” he said, trying to hide his grin.

Loki shot him a smile. He felt good, as though things were progressing and the road ahead was clear.

Would it last? He wondered to himself. Maybe not, but for now he could enjoy the day, the ride and the company.

Especially the company.

****

The diamond Loki presented to the jeweller was of excellent quality, which he had already suspected. It came from the Vanir mines in the far west which were known for their minimal flaws. One Thousand gold coins later Loki walked out of the jeweller’s as a man on a mission. He sealed the bulk of the money into his bag and, Thor in tow, went off to find a carpenter.

The man they found was solid and steady, unfazed by Loki’s exacting requirements for his workbench. He drafted up the specifications as Loki spoke and negotiated the prince evenly and without awe for the level of royalty who stood before him.

The price was a little steep, but Loki couldn’t get him to budge any lower.

“I’ve got three hungry children, your Grace. I’ll make the bench and I’ll make it well enough to last a lifetime, but I won’t do it for less than one hundred gold coins,” he insisted.

Two and a half month’s rent for a table, but it would be exactly what Loki wanted. He deliberated with Thor outside in the sunshine.

“I think I’ll have to pay it,” Loki said. “I want, no, I *need* a workbench that suits me, and he has a point about the food, everything has gone up in price here. I honestly believe that the only reason I go the house as cheaply as I did was because Hoswif was a little cowed by negotiating with a prince.”

“I think you are right, there are other carpenters, but Halndsot is known for his quality, and he almost exclusively builds for mages. He will give you exactly what you want,” Thor said.

Loki nodded. “Things aren’t well here,” he said.

Thor shrugged. “They’ll get better soon. The rationing council estimates that we’ll be off the ticket system in less than three years.”

“I’m going to plant vegetables in my garden,” Loki said. “I can buy the herbs I need for a little while, but growing some of my own food will decrease the burden, if only a little.”

“You’re not alone, most gardens here are for food now,” Thor said. “But look, no one is starving, although we all have hungry days, we’ve survived like this for forty three years, we can manage a little longer.”

Loki returned to the carpenter and accepted his offer, paying the hundred gold coins with princely grace.

Thor walked him back to his lodgings before heading back to the palace to welcome Hogun’s return.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Thor promised.

“I’ll see you there,” Loki promised before heading upstairs to wash the day’s dust away.

He ate his dinner downstairs at a table in the corner. It was stew, with bread. The stew was heavy with potatoes, which grew well in the Aesir soil, and very light on meat. Loki ate it without complaint; he’d had far worse on his travels.

Of course he’d also had better, but there was no point in dwelling on that now. Loki had chosen to move back to Asgard, along with all that it contained. He wasn’t about to turn tail and leave just because the food was a little poor.

He wrote a letter to his grandparents though, just because he *could* eat the food didn’t mean he had to be stupid about it. They would send him fresh vegetables and perhaps even some joints of meat. He could set his larder up in his new home and be comfortable for a while, at least.

Finally it was time to head to the Road’s End. Loki took a handful of gold in a purse and wrapped his cloak around his shoulders before stepping out into the night air.

It was cool in the evening, although the Aesir summer was well on its way and would soon bake the air. Loki slipped easily through the streets, pausing only once to reacquaint himself with the way, before stepping into the Road’s End.

Thor and the Warrior’s Four had yet to arrive. Loki ordered a drink and found a table big enough for them all. The crowd was less than he would have expected, but again the high price of mead would be keeping people away.

Loki had finished half his drink when Thor stepped through the doorway. Loki watched as Thor acknowledged some waves as he scanned the room. His gaze found Loki and he grinned. Behind him, the Warrior’s Four stepped through the doorway and headed for the bar.

Loki shuffled along the bench as they reached his table.

“Loki! How good to see you again!” boomed Volstagg, slapping him on the back with good cheer.

He was thinner. A lot thinner. Loki had to cover his astonishment at the sight of Volstagg the ‘svelte’.

“Volstagg, you look well,” he said, rising to clasp hands with the older warrior.

“I look deflated,” Volstagg said in the same cheery tone, “but soon all will be well again. I heard from Hogun how you liberated Vanaheim from that usurper, you have saved us all!”

“Saved your stomach,” Fandral said, also reaching out to Loki. “A fact for which we are all very grateful,” he added with a smile.

Loki felt a slight flush of guilt; the last time he and Fandral had spoken things had not ended particularly well. But it appeared that Fandral was prepared to forget it, and so he clasped the man’s arm and gave him a smile of welcome.

“It’s good to see you again,” Loki said. “All of you.”

Hogun gave him a nod. They had last seen one another only a few days before, although they had not had much of a chance to speak. Sif reached out and clasped his arm in welcome before taking a seat and a mouthful of mead.

“It’s good to see you back,” she said. “Our crown prince here has been like a moping puppy without you.”

Fandral and Volstagg laughed as Thor blushed red. He shot a nervous look at Loki, perhaps wondering how he’d take the unintended pressure that comment created, but Loki just smiled at him. People would talk, sometimes there would be pressure, but Loki was determined to deal with it.

“Tell me what you’ve all been up to while I was away,” Loki suggested, “and I’ll tell you about the more exciting of my travels.”

“I’d rather hear about your fight in Vanaheim,” Fandral said. “Hogun has many talents but adding excitement to a story is not one of them. I’m sure there’s more to the tale.”

“Fine,” Loki said. “Tell me what you’ve been up to and I’ll tell you all about fighting Fomalen.”

Volstagg launched into an account of their adventures fighting with a territorial dragon who decided to set up its new home within sight of one of Asgard’s border towns. Fandral and Sif jumped in occasionally with further details, and eventually even Thor relaxed and began to enjoy himself and contribute. Loki countered with his version of the rebellion, covering the camps and the invasion of the palace. When he reached the role played by Frigga Thor sat up straight in concern.

“She didn’t tell me she was so near the fighting!” he blurted out.

“It’s all right, Thor, she’s safe,” Loki said, trying not to laugh. “I was worried at the time but I assure you she was unharmed.

“She stabbed Fomalen through the chest, that’s pretty impressive,” Sif said.

“Mother has always been impressive,” Loki said proudly. 

“She made an excellent queen,” Sif said. “It’s a shame that she didn’t stay.”

“Mother made the right choice,” Thor said. “Our parents had reached a point in their lives when living separately was the right thing to do.”

Loki nodded in agreement.

“I don’t doubt it for a second,” Fandral said. “But the palace is colder without her. She brought a warmth to the throne of Asgard.”

“What about you, Loki? Did you bring a warmth to the throne of Vanaheim?” Sif said jokingly. “It must have been like cuddling a skeleton, when you weren’t being bored stupid playing housewife.”

It was like being punched. The world tilted and distorted around Loki as her words sank into him.

“Do you think it was a joke?” Loki hissed icily, causing expressions of alarm across the table. “Do you think it was *funny* me being sent to that bastards bed? Were you back here laughing at me this whole time?! If you think it’s something to joke about then you’re wrong, you’re all wrong, and if you don’t believe me, _try it_.”

He stormed away from them, ignoring the call of Thor behind him. He slammed through the doorway and practically ran down the street.

He’d been a fool to think that he would ever be able to move on from the King’s poisonous touch. The Ink was back, it was here and it was choking him. He gasped in fear and tried to move past it.

‘It’s in your head, it’s not real, you know this, you know, calm down, you have to calm down,’ he thought frantically.

“Loki.”

‘Just breathe. Breathe. In and out. You can do it. It’s been so long since you felt this way but you can do it.’

“Loki!”

Loki turned. Of course it was Thor. 

Perfect Thor.

What was the point?

The point was that it was not about the King. It was about Loki, and what *he* wanted.

Loki took a deep breath and, with difficulty, got his hands to stop shaking.

“I didn’t mean to get so angry,” he whispered as Thor gently took his hands and held them.

“You have every right to be angry,” Thor said.

“No,” Loki said. “They don’t know. They don’t know what happened. Sif was expecting me to tell them how bored I was, or that kissing him was the worst I had to do. He was so old that no one actually thinks that he was anything other than a grandfather-figure to me. I know this, but when she spoke I forgot everything. I thought I was doing so *well*.”

“You are doing well,” Thor said urgently. “Loki, you are a strong, powerful man. You have faced something that would fell most people within days, and you endured it for centuries. You are right, they don’t know, but if you need to get angry then you are allowed to.”

“But to them I’ll be getting angry at nothing,” Loki said. “They’ll never understand, and number three-“

He stopped. Thor did not know about the list.

“Number three?” Thor asked, clearly confused.

“It’s nothing,” Loki said. “Just some stuff I wanted to do. It doesn’t matter.”

Thor gently increased the grip he had on Loki’s hands, trying to be reassuring without restricting. “Of course it matters,” he said. “If it’s important to you, then it matters, because *you* matter.”

Loki blinked as tears formed in his eyes. Had Thor always been this perfect?

Yes, and no. He’d always had the potential to be like this, but he’d grown into the role of a good man through hardship and loss. 

The same way Loki had grown into a royal mess through the same ordeal.

“I need to be alone,” Loki said. “I’m sorry, Thor, but I need to be alone.”

Thor let go of his hands and stepped back.

“Can I see you the day after tomorrow?” he asked. “I can help you move.”

There was nothing to move, Loki kept all he had in his travelling bag, but he appreciated the offer, both of the help and of the space to have a day to himself.

“Yes,” he said, trying to keep his hands to trembling all over again. “Come for breakfast.”

He’d buy something extra at the market, maybe a little butter if he could get it.

Thor nodded and started walking back towards the Road’s End, although Loki noticed that he didn’t turn around fully until he was at the door.

Loki turned away and walked quickly back to his lodgings, trying to dismiss the Ink from his mind as, unseen by all others, it swirled around his head and latched on to his clothes in strips of greasy blackness.

He could conquer this. He *would* conquer this.

One day maybe he would be able to explain himself to the others, but for now it was far too much, and made all the worse for being unexpected.

Loki went up to his room, kicked off his boots and collapsed onto the bed.

After a minute he pulled the pillow close and hugged it tightly, trying not to cry.

****

Thor walked back to the table where the Warrior’s Four sat. They were watching him with a mixture of uncertainty and trepidation.

“Thor-” Sif began, but stopped at the look on his face.

Thor took a deep breath and rested his hands on the table in front of him.

“I would like to go now,” he said in a deadly calm tone. “We will all return to the palace, where we will talk about what just happened.”

They followed him back silently. They knew something was wrong, but they weren’t sure what exactly it was. Thor led them to his own chambers and sealed the door. He pointed to the long couch that ran along one wall and said: “Sit.”

They sat.

Thor took a deep breath to steal himself. He began by looking at each of them in the eye, to ensure that they knew he was absolutely serious.

“Loki’s time with the King of Vanaheim was not pleasant,” he began. “It is not my story to tell, it is his and he may well choose never to tell it. But it was not a holiday, it was not mostly boring. It was terrible, and it is the reason why Loki will not live in the palace now, or even speak to Odin. It is the reason *I* speak only to Odin on sufferance. I ask you, as my friends and Loki’s friends, do not mention it again. I believe in his ability to move beyond what has happened, but I will not have his friends jeopardising that. Do you understand?”

They nodded, faces serious.

Hogun stood up.

“I have been told little of what went on in my homeland before King Dorgen was crowned, but I understand, from my dealings with the royal family, that they do not remember the old King kindly. King Dorgen is determined to have his father forgotten.”

Thor nodded. “That is the general impression that I have gotten,” he said. “Loki speaks highly of all the others.”

Sif stood then, her face pale. “I’m going to apologise to him,” she said. “I didn’t mean to upset him, I thought, we all thought that his time away would be, well, more like a holiday. The old king was *very* old, after all. But whatever he did had to have been bad to make *Loki* react like that.”

“I don’t want him to know that I spoke to you,” Thor said, suddenly anxious. “It would upset him to know I had done so without consulting him.”

“I won’t tell him,” Sif said quickly. “I’d want to apologise anyway. It was a joke; I never meant to upset him. I will apologise for that.”

“Is that why he was so quick to anger when he first came back?” Fandral asked quietly. “I knew something wasn’t right, but he left again so quickly it was impossible to tell what was wrong.”

Thor nodded. “Yes, Loki’s first attempt to live in Asgard again was not a success, for a variety of reasons relating to his time in Vanaheim. I would very much like this time to have a different outcome.”

“We’ll be careful not to joke about it,” Volstagg said. “I promise.”

Thor nodded and sank into a chair. “He wanted to ask you about hiring servants,” he said. “He’s going to need some in his new home.”

Volstagg nodded. “I will take a welcoming basket to his new house,” he said. “We can discuss it then.”

Thor looked up at them all with tired eyes. 

“Thank you, my friends,” he said. “Loki has a hard road ahead of him, I am grateful that you will be on his side.”


	78. Seventy Seven Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Bout and a Cow

_Loki walked through the palace of Vanaheim. His hair was short and tickled his ears. His clothes were ornate and difficult to walk in. His whole body was covered in jewels._

_“My darling wife,” said the King, standing at the end of the corridor._

_Loki walked slowly towards his outstretched arms._

_“My sweet darling, how I’ve missed you,” the King said, smiling in delight as Loki kept moving forwards._

_Loki reached the end of the corridor and raised his arms as though to walk into the King’s embrace._

_Then he whirled and slammed his fist into the King’s face, smashing it to pieces which fell in shards at his feet. Loki glared at the pieces as they crumbled into dust._

_He raised a hand and the wind came blowing in, scattering the dust into oblivion._

_Loki stood in the empty corridor and took a deep breath._

Loki’s eyes snapped open. He felt… uneasy. He’d defeated the King in his dreams but far from feeling triumphant he desperately wanted a bath.

‘You don’t need one,’ Loki told himself sternly. ‘It was a dream, alright, a dream of the bastard, which you haven’t had in years, but you were very upset when you fell asleep so it’s only natural. Calm down. He is *dead*.’

Loki tried to stay in bed but the dream had woken him too thoroughly. Instead, he rose and pulled on a robe from his bag before settling into the window seat of his room.

Would he ever be free of the King? He wondered as he watched the sunlight slowly increase over the city. After about ten minutes the sun finally crested the horizon, blazing golden and making the city look as though it was on fire.

Loki rested his head against the window frame and tried to let his mind go blank.

He knew there would be good days and bad days, even now, *especially* now, given that the excitement of the rebellion was behind him and he was trying to be, well, normal.

No more travelling, no more *running*. In the beginning when he’d woken feeling like he was drowning in Ink he could pack up and leave. Every night he stayed in a new place, he never stopped moving, never stopped long enough for the bad thoughts to catch up with him.

He’d gradually lasted longer in each place, gradually fought the Inky feelings more and more. He’d fought all these long years.

Sometimes knowing it wasn’t over, even after so long, was crushingly discouraging.

But why had he come back? 

Thor. Always Thor. Loki wanted Thor, and dammit, Thor was worth fighting for.

He’d fought all these years for himself, now the fight had changed.

Did that not make Thor his ally? Perhaps he wasn’t in this particular fight alone.

Loki shook his head slightly. It wasn’t worth thinking about, having more than just a friendship with Thor was not yet in the picture, first Loki needed to prove that he could live in Asgard.

Which was why today he was going to go shopping. He was going to buy food for the larder and stock up his spell ingredients. Then he was going to take Lightning for a run, and perhaps visit the book stores and have a look at some of the latest seidr books available.

Normal things, in other words. He was going to do normal things and live a normal life and be normal.

Loki sat for a few more minutes, watching the sun rise higher in the sky, before slipping off the window sill and making his way to the bathroom.

Time to start the day.

****

Food was horrendously expensive. Some items could only be bought with tickets, which Loki did not have, and those that could be bought with money had restrictions on the amounts.

Loki bought some bread to add to the next day’s breakfast and managed to find a tiny pat of butter for the enormous sum of ten coppers coins. It used to be a quarter of one for a pat that size.

Loki paid it. He had the feeling that Thor hadn’t had butter in a while.

He also found potatoes for a decent price, and some apples which were slightly bruised. His last purchase was a bag of flour. The ticketed flour was stored in special bags but there was a little extra for those who could afford it.

Well, flour and water made a rough, hard mixture that could be made better with some oil, herbs and salt, or even some gravy if he could find some.

Good oil had vanished from the shops, okay oil was hideously expensive, and bad oil was plentiful, having flooded the market from the fields in Alfheim.

Loki skipped the oil altogether and bought a parcel of duck fat. Wild ducks were also far more prevalent than they had been previously. Loki wondered whether hunting was still a free activity or whether restrictions had been placed upon it to prevent the decimation of the population by hungry Aesir.

Loki stored his supplies away in the food compartment of his bag and headed to the book shops.

Four hours, and three books later, he returned to his lodgings for lunch. Thin stew again, bulked up with potatoes and carrots. He ate it all and sat at the table drumming his fingers lightly as he thought.

He’d sent a letter to his grandparents today, it would be in their hands by now, and no doubt there would be a frantic flurry of activity as they had the kitchens put together food for him.

Looking at the thin men and women eating at the other tables, Loki felt vaguely like some kind of cheater for having this option available to him.

The door to the tavern opened and Sif walked in. Loki sat straighter at the sight of her. His heart was already beginning to pound.

She saw him and headed over. She looked like a mixture of determined and nervous.

“Loki,” she said in greeting.

“Sif,” Loki said in reply. He wanted to run away from her, but he knew that wouldn’t help.

“May I sit with you?” she asked.

Did he have a choice? Well, technically yes. He could tell her to go to Hel, but then he’d lose a friend. She hadn’t understood why he’d been so upset.

Loki found that he was irrationally angry about that, as though somehow she should have known.

“By all means,” he said, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

He wanted to hit her.

He wanted to tell her everything.

He wanted to hit her *and* tell her everything.

He also wanted her never to find out ever about what had happened.

If he could have all of that at once, then he’d feel much better, he was sure.

Sif sat down awkwardly and the owner’s daughter came over to ask if she wanted a drink or lunch. 

“Lunch please,” Sif said. 

She handed the money over and the girl headed to the kitchens.

“Things have been lean in the city,” Sif said. “There’s been a new trend among the vanity-set, buxom is no longer in, it cannot be sustained, except by cheating.”

Loki nodded, that seemed fair to him. “So the girls who cannot keep meat on their bones are finally having their day,” he said.

Sif nodded. “The men too, the ‘Vanir’ look has become quite popular.”

“It seems I have arrived at the perfect time for me,” Loki said.

He’d always been lean, unable to put on the kind of muscle so desired by the ladies of Asgard. Although that had never mattered; he’d only had eyes for Thor.

The girl brought Sif’s food and a small mug of watered mead. Sif said her thanks and the girl walked away.

“I came here to apologise to you,” Sif said. “I never meant to upset you last night, but it was clear that I had, and I am truly sorry.”

Loki gripped his cup tightly to try and hide the fear that shot through him. Her words reawakened what he’d felt last night and the wound was harsh and still fresh.

But at the same time she was apologising, she was sorry. He had to respond.

“I accept your apology,” Loki said, a little stiffly.

Sif nodded and took a bite of her stew.

“Not bad,” she said, sounding surprised.

Loki blinked. The stew was horrible, but Sif sounded serious. Thor had said that everyone was surviving, but the prices he saw that morning and the way people responded to terrible food made Loki realise that things were actually quite a bit worse than Thor had made out. Vanaheim’s liberation had come in the nick of time.

“I don’t expect you to tell me what happened in Vanaheim,” Sif said suddenly, sending a new wave of fear through him, “but I, and the warriors three, consider you our friend and comrade at arms. If there is something we can avenge, we will avenge it, and if there is something we can help with, we will do so.”

Loki longed to get up from the table and run away. Just hearing her speak around the topic was painful, and yet she was trying to be a good friend. He swallowed a mouthful of mead and took a deep breath.

“Things were… not what I expected,” he said. “I don’t want to talk about it, and I would appreciate it if you never mentioned… *him* again. His sons however I consider good friends, I think you’d like Musleen and Camtan, and King Dorgen has my lasting respect.”

Sif nodded in understanding. “I hope to meet them one day, perhaps they will visit you here,” she said.

Loki smiled slightly. “I’d like that,” he said. 

It was odd, but after so long away from Asgard, he wanted his Vanir friends beside him to make his new life here seem more like… home.

But they didn’t belong here, they were the princes of Vanaheim, they would never live in Asgard. He would just have to get along without them.

“We were planning to spar this afternoon in the training yards of the palace,” Sif said. “You would be welcome if you wanted to join us, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Loki smiled a little, half-smile. Last time he’d been here the careful way people had stumbled around him had pissed him off beyond reason, now he could see it for what it was. 

They cared.

“I’ll see if I have time, thank you, Sif,” he said.

Sif swallowed the last of her mead and stood to go.

“I look forward to having you join us on our adventures again,” she said. “We’ve missed your blades and your seidr.”

Loki’s eyebrows went up. “Really? You never seemed to be fond of it before,” he remarked.

“That’s because we were fools,” Sif said plainly. “We tried to do without it while you were gone and let me tell you, we’ve learned our lesson.”

Loki smile this time was genuine, and a warm feeling of pleasure flushed through him.

Sif nodded in parting and headed back to the palace, leaving Loki sitting in contemplation.

Would he go? He didn’t want to go anywhere near the palace, but Thor lived there, so at some point it would be unavoidable. His friends trained there, adventures were planned there. Visiting would be something he’d have to get used to.

Maybe he’d go, just to prove that he could. It wasn’t like Odin would be watching the sparring; he had rarely done so in the past. Besides, numbers 4 and 7 on his list named Odin specifically as someone Loki would have to be civil to.

Besides, it meant he’d get to see Thor sooner than he’d thought.

****

The afternoon was warm and the air was still when Loki entered the training yards. He scanned the area carefully, looking for his friends. There were pockets of warriors practising with various weapons scattered here and there.

Loki took a few tentative steps further into the yard. He felt a sense of unease at being there alone, like he wasn’t truly welcome.

The sensation eased a little when he spotted Fandral by the sword rack. Loki walked over and raised a hand in greeting.

Fandral saw him and grinned. “Loki! Glad you could make it,” he said. “The others are just coming down now.

Loki nodded. “Oh, good,” he said. 

It appeared that Fandral was determined to forget Loki’s outburst last night in addition to the one years earlier when they’d last spoken one on one.

Okay then.

Loki grabbed a practice sword and tested the weight with his right arm, then his left, which did not go unnoticed.

“Left handed? What other skills have you picked up on your travels?” Fandral asked.

“Actually this one came from before,” Loki said. “Prince Musleen lost two of his fingers to some criminals and had to relearn how to fight left handed, I joined him as a sparring partner on his level and we ended up learning together. It’s come in handy more than once when travelling though.”

“I can imagine,” Fandral said. “But I doubt I’d have the patience to start again, maybe if I had a friend to help like you did.”

“Maybe,” Loki said. “It took a long time to master.”

He looked up as Thor entered the yard with Sif and Hogun beside him. Volstagg was walking behind.

They saw Loki and Fandral and made their way over to them.

“Loki!” Thor exclaimed, beaming in delight.

Loki felt a warm flush of pleasure at the sight of Thor. This was a good decision. 

“Swords first,” Fandarl said. Sif sighed and Volstagg huffed. “Too bad,” Fandral said cheerfully. “I got here first so I get to pick.”

Thor put Mjolnir down and picked up a sword. He tested the weight as Sif, Hogun and Volstagg did the same. 

Loki decided that his sword was the right one already and stepped back to give them room.

Swords chosen, they moved towards the sparring rings and regarded each other.

“I’m fighting Hogun,” Fandral said. “It’s been *years*.”

Thor chuckled. “I’ll fight Loki, I want to see if you’ve gone soft,” he added in a teasing tone.

Loki grinned and stepped into a ring and gave Fandral a conspiratorial wink as he held the sword out in front of him with his right hand.

Thor saw the wink and looked confused, but he didn’t say anything as he took up his own guard.

Sif and Volstagg took the third ring and readied themselves.

A moment later the air was filled with the sound of metal hitting metal as they began to spar. Loki ducked under Thor’s first strike and spun quickly around to try and land a blow against his hip. Thor jumped back and managed to block the blow, before pressing forwards with his weight behind him. Loki ducked and wove again, slipping out of the attack and forcing Thor to turn ungracefully in order to cover his rear flank.

They fought back and forth for about ten minutes, trading blows and trying to find weak points in their defences. Then Thor made his move, swinging hard up and across to knock the sword from Loki’s hand.

Except he didn’t. Loki saw it coming and, rather than take the blow, threw his sword from his right to his left instead, making Thor stumble as he overreached himself. Loki took advantage of the moment and reversed his own swing, knocking the sword from Thor’s hand and into the dust.

Thor jumped forwards at Loki’s legs, driving him back in an attempt to stay upright. He then dove on his sword and managed to pick it up again before Loki could end the match by cornering him.

Loki stood and waited for Thor’s charge. The sword was still in his left, but that meant nothing. His left was as good as his right by now, and more importantly, the muscles were rested.

Thor charged and Loki swung and ducked, catching his brother by surprise and causing him to fall out of the ring.

Thor looked up at Loki from the dust.

“When?” he asked, panting.

Loki grinned. “A long time ago now,” he said.

“I hope you can tell me about it later,” Thor said, rising.

Their match had lasted the longest, and the others were standing and watching them. They looked impressed.

“Another?” Thor asked.

“I’ll take on Volstagg this time,” Loki said. “Got to vary the opponents or you’ll get caught in a rut.”

“True,” Thor conceded. “Fandral, come and fight me!”

Fandral made a mock whimpering sound under his breath as he and Loki traded places.

“I hate fighting him after he’s lost,” he complained. “His pride is on the line now.”

Loki laughed, and went to challenge Volstagg.

****

It was more than an hour later, when everyone was starting to get tired, that Loki glanced up in the middle of his bout with Fandral and saw Odin standing in the shadows of the covered balcony above the training yard.

He faltered, and almost lost his staff as Fandral connected, but his warrior training came to the fore and he managed to fight back, successfully landing another two blows before Fandral managed to get him in the dirt.

He looked up at the balcony in time to see Odin turn and start walking towards the stairs down to the yard. 

He had to get out of here.

Forget being civil. Forget working with him. Loki had been back in Asgard for less than two days, he was *not* ready to see his father.

“I have to go,” Loki said.

Thor immediately looked up in concern.

“Oh come now, Loki, you won five out of seven, no need to take off because my excellent skills have impressed you,” Fandral joked.

Loki tried to force a smile but he couldn’t quite manage it. Fandral saw; and his face became serious.

“Go then, if you have to,” he said quietly.

When he had the time, Loki would wonder about how understanding the warrior’s four were suddenly being, but he did *not* have the time, he had to go.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he said to Thor, and handed him his staff. Then he turned and left as fast as dignity allowed.

As soon as he couldn’t be seen, Loki broke into a run and fled the palace altogether. He didn’t stop running until he was halfway to his lodgings.

So much for being civil, but he wasn’t prepared for a meeting, not now.

He slowed to a walk at last and made his way back to the tavern where he was staying.

There was a cow in front of it.

Ordinarily, cows would be considered somewhat out of place. They did occasionally make an appearance on their way to the butchers, but that was early in the morning and they were always being led.

This cow was tied up and had a note on it addressed to Loki.

_Loki darling,_

_We have received your letter and are most concerned about the lack of good meat in your new diet, so your Grandfather and I have decided to send you some Vanir beef for your larder. I hope it will tide you over for a week or so._

_Haewkyr suggested that we send it as a fresh beast, as that way it can be transported to you under its own power, and you can sell the offal to the butcher in exchange for jointing the meat for you._

_Let us know if you run out,_

_Grandmother_

Loki regarded the cow, which stared back at him placidly.

Cows were less common in Vanaheim than Asgard, mostly because of the predominance of Alpecs, but among the nobility they were eaten semi-regularly. 

Loki took the note and headed inside to where the owner of the tavern was waiting.

“It appears I have received a cow,” Loki said, trying to keep the amusement in his voice to a minimum. These people were struggling to maintain a fulfilling diet; he didn’t want to upset them.

“Yes, your Grace, it arrived an hour ago. It appears to have gathered quite an audience,” said Modeyr.

There was indeed a crowd gathered. A random cow was always going to cause quite a stir, but a random cow *now* was a spectacle worth telling your friends about.

“Do you know any good butchers?” Loki asked. “I want it jointed as soon as possible, and if I bring you a leg do you think you can roast it for my dinner? The rest of the tavern can have what’s left.”

Modeyr almost leaned forward to clasp his hands at the generosity of the offer.

“Of course, your Grace, I still buy my meat from a fine butcher, fallen on hard times now of course, but he’s the best I know, I’ll lead you there.”

Loki went outside and untied the cow. It followed him calmly down the street as Modeyr led the way to the butcher.

The butcher’s name was Melaten, and Modeyr had not been kidding about the hard times. Meat of all kinds were scarce, and his shop was now filled with wild rabbits, ducks and, unfortunately, rats.

Loki hoped they had been bred especially for eating; city rats were not usually well enough to eat.

Melaten’s eyes almost popped out of his head when he saw the cow. Loki was tying it up outside when he stepped out of his shop to greet him.

“Your Grace, Prince Loki, I am honoured to see you, and pleased to know you are back home,” he said, eyes straying to the cow. “Is there any way I can be of service to you?”

“I need you to joint my cow,” Loki said. “I would like it cut into pieces suitable to feed two men at a time and parcelled up securely. You may keep the offal and the head and hoofs as payment.”

Melaten’s hands began to shake. “Of course, your Grace, of course, I will do it at once. Let me just wash the benches down, I’ve been skinning rabbits all morning.”

He hurried inside his shop.

Loki turned to Modeyr. “I would have thought that, with the price of meat so high, the butchers would be doing quite well.” he said.

Modeyr shook his head. “The price of meat is extremely high, even the rabbits are now a monthly treat for an average family, and the goats, cows and other cattle are all gone. Most people buy potatoes and other vegetables. They might buy a rabbit leg once a week to flavour their stews. Unless they cater solely to the wealthiest families, the butchers are doing it hard. The meat in his windows is the only meat he’s got.”

There were only four rabbits, two ducks, and twelve rats. 

“No one’s buying?” Loki confirmed.

“They can’t afford to. He lowers the price when they start to go off, they get bought then,” Modeyr said. “But people are getting sick more frequently than they used to as well.”

Melaten returned and held his hand out for the cow’s rope. “I’ll lead it in through the back, your Grace,” he said, smiling.

Loki let him take it.

“How long will you be?” he asked.

“About three hours, your Grace, from start to finish,” Melaten said.

“Can I have one leg intact please, for Modeyr to roast at his tavern tonight,” Loki said.

Modeyr beamed.

“Of course, your Grace, I’ll get that one ready first so that he’s got time to cook it,” Melaten said.

Loki thanked him and walked back to the tavern with Modeyr.

“If he can’t sell the meat now, will he be able to sell the head, offal and hooves?” Loki asked.

Modeyr nodded. “Oh yes, the nobles haven’t had beef in years, they’ll hear about this and pay him well for what used to be scraps.”

Loki wondered whether he ought to enter the cattle trade instead of the heterwart one, but soon food would be heading back to Asgard’s markets, even if he did get on board it wouldn’t last long.

“You received several packages, your Grace,” Modeyr said. “I put the others up in your room.”

Loki thanked him and headed inside. There were two big baskets on the table in his room. They were filled with fresh fruit and vegetables. Loki smiled and looked through them. Onions, he hadn’t seen an onion since arriving, leeks, radishes and peppers, one basket had a large pumpkin in the bottom of it, sweet potatoes and carrots, a small container of mushrooms, apples, pears and grapes, a cantaloupe, along with a dozen vegetables unique to Vanaheim. Loki was grinning as he looked through it all. It looked as though his larder would be doing quite well for some time.

He did take an onion downstairs though, for Modeyr to add to his dinner that night and, in a moment of generosity, gave him another one to put in the stew that he was sure to make from the cow’s leg bone the following day.

It was not until he was back in his room that he remembered the reason he’d left the palace so suddenly.

Odin.

Odin almost never watched the training, the fact that he’d chosen to do so today could not have been a coincidence. He had heard that Loki was in the palace and he’d come to talk to him.

Well too bad, because Loki wasn’t ready to talk to Odin.

Maybe he would never be ready; he didn’t *feel* like he’d ever be ready, but then he’d thought he’d never be ready to be with Thor and yet here he was.

Thor. The look on his face when Loki had felled him had been hilarious. Loki had felt so good, even though Thor had managed to beat him the next time they’d sparred, about half an hour later.

He was coming over in the morning to help Loki move, although really, they’d just be riding their horses to the spice district and maybe unpacking some of Loki’s bag. It was hardly an arduous task.

Still, they’d probably spend the day together.

Loki frowned as a thought occurred. He’d sparred today, sparred with his friends. He reached into his bag and pulled out his list.

_2) Go out with friends in a normal setting like a tavern._

Well, sparring wasn’t a tavern, but the key part had been a _normal setting_. Sparring was normal, and Loki hadn’t left because of them.

With a huge grin and a triumphant look in his eye, Loki grabbed a pen and crossed off number 2.

How long did he have to stay in Asgard to consider himself permanent? He would have liked to put a time limit on it, but truly, it would be when he decided he felt at home and wasn’t going to leave.

But he’d been here slightly less than two days and he’d already conquered number 2.

This was going to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> Sorry to do this to you... but I am going on a holiday!
> 
> I'll be going to Italy for three weeks, leaving this Saturday. Originally I was planning to have this completed by now but work got away from me and I'm very sorry for that. I will continue it when I get back. In the meantime at least you know why there will be no updates.
> 
> I promise I'll finish this one day, I've come too far to give up now.


	79. Seventy Eight Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steak

Thor arrived before breakfast the next day, and looked surprised to see the food Loki had set out on the table.

“Our grandparents are very generous,” Loki said cheerfully, gesturing for Thor to sit down, “although I bought the butter here.”

Thor’s gaze immediately turned to the small pat of butter on the table.

“Dig in,” Loki said with a smile.

Thor spread the butter across the first warm roll and actually moaned in pleasure as he took a bite.

“This is amazing,” he said with his mouth full.

“I’m starting to get the feeling that things aren’t quite as managed as you first told me,” Loki said. “All the food is ridiculously expensive, the butchers are selling rats; I can’t imagine how the poorest people are surviving.”

“The tickets keep them alive,” Thor said. “They are issued from the palace, which reminds me.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a booklet. “I grabbed a booklet for you before I left. You are now registered to receive ticketed food like everyone else.”

Loki shook his head. “I appreciate it, but I don’t need it,” he said. “I can buy food.”

It was Thor’s turn to shake his head. “Some things cannot be bought right now, take the tickets, Loki, you are Aesir, you are entitled.”

Loki deliberated for a few more seconds but Thor would not be swayed. He took the booklet with a murmur of thanks and turned back to his breakfast.

“I don’t have a lot to unpack,” Loki said, “and it’s all in my bag anyway. But there’s a lot I still have to buy. I need sheets for my bed, a sleeping role is fine for the road but not for a house, and hay and oat deliveries for Lighting. I need to have a proper look through the house to see if there’s anything else, but I imagine there will be a lot of things. The furniture was included but the cutlery and crockery might not be.”

“So we’re going shopping,” Thor said with a resigned grin. “Very well, the spice district has a few general markets close by; we can have a look at them after you’re unpacked.”

They finished their breakfast and Loki grabbed the last of his things. He paid Modeyr for his stay and received an enthusiastic handshake in return.

“May the Norns smile upon you, your Grace,” Modeyr said as Loki mounted up on Lightning and began riding.

Thor gave him a confused look.

“Not that I don’t think you deserve the praise, but I’ve never seen anyone be so happy to have a guest before,” he said as they rode slowly through the streets.

“I gave him a cow leg to sell as dinner, and today he’ll be making a soup with the bones,” Loki said.

“Where did you get a cow leg?” Thor asked, surprised.

“From a cow,” Loki said in a reasonable tone.

Despite Thor’s best efforts he could not get Loki to expand on his comment. They rode slowly, taking their time as they made their way through the city’s districts. It was two hours later that they arrived at Loki’s new house.

Hoswif was waiting for them. She held a very shiny key in her hand. Loki wondered briefly if she’d polished it, but decided not to ask.

The handover was easy. The house had been cleaned again and the workroom emptied. Loki took the key and handed over the first week’s rent.

“I live in the next street,” Hoswif said, “if you should need anything. Otherwise I’ll be around in a week.”

“Thank you,” Loki said and he and Thor stabled their horses in the little stable attached to the house. Such things were common in Asgard among the middle and upper classes. There was a little hay in the stalls and Lightning decided he was going to tuck in.

“Go easy,” Loki said to him, “you don’t want to get fat.”

Lightning ignored him, but it was the kind of ignoring that was very much on purpose.

“I’ll get you some oats soon,” Loki promised and headed inside.

“So what’s first?” Thor asked as they stood in the kitchen.

“Food. I have a bag full of food that needs to be stored away. Let’s see what the freezer is like,” Loki said.

The freezer was large and had been cleaned of icy build-up. Loki put his bag on the floor and waved a hand over it to get to the right internal compartment.

“Put these on the shelves for me,” he said, passing up the first two parcels.

“They’re freezing!” Thor exclaimed, taking them and putting them on the frigid shelves.

“I know. This compartment has a freezing spell on it that I learnt in Jotunheim, before Laufey kicked me out with extreme prejudice,” Loki said. “I’ve used it ever since to keep my food cold.”

Loki handing Thor another two parcels, and another, when he got to the fifth set Thor looked bemused, when he reached the tenth Thor had to speak.

“What’s in these parcels?” he asked. “And why do you have so many?”

“You know the cow’s leg I gave to Modeyr?” Loki asked.

“Yes?”

“This is what happened to the rest of the cow.”

“You have a whole cow in there?”

“A three legged one, yes,” Loki confirmed, handing up another two parcels. “I told you our grandparents were generous. Once we’re done here I have some vegetables to put in the pantry.”

It took a solid hour to unpack all of the food from Loki’s bag. The pumpkin gave them the most trouble, Loki had managed to get it in with only minor difficulties, but getting it back out proved to be a challenge. Loki had to get his fingers down on either side of it and hold on while Thor tugged at the bag from the other end. Finally though the pumpkin came free and was given pride of place in the pantry.

“I’ll have to get a cook soon, otherwise I’ll just end up roasting it in pieces,” Loki said, regarding it.

Thor laid the bag back down on the kitchen bench. “Anymore in there?” he asked.

“That’s the last of the food. I wanted to unpack my clothes as well, but that can wait until tonight,” Loki said. “I think we should go out and buy what I need while the markets are still in full swing.”

****

Getting what Loki needed proved to be easy. He had travelled with minimal supplies for years and so did not feel the need for trinkets or extras. They obtained some good quality sheets for his bed and a set of cutlery and crockery from different stalls, before stopping at the hay-trader to order a regular supply for Lightning. Loki also managed to find oats at a horribly high price, but he bought them because he’d promised, which made Thor chuckle.

“You spoil that horse,” he said.

“Lightning is smarter than an average horse,” Loki said. “I swear that he knows far more than he lets on, too.”

They had lunch in Loki’s new kitchen, two beef steaks and some baked potatoes, before debating what to do about obtaining a servant.

“I’ve never had to do it before,” Thor said. “The palace has stewards who take care of all of that.”

“I could advertise?” Loki said. “I forgot to ask Volstagg yesterday, I meant to.”

“After you left, Odin came into the training yards,” Thor said. “He missed you by less than a minute.”

Loki nodded. “I saw him watching me from the balcony.”

“He said he wanted to talk to you,” Thor said. “I didn’t tell him where you were, he was most upset.”

“Let him be upset,” Loki said with a slight viciousness to his tone. “I’m not ready to talk to him yet.”

“He deserves everything he’s gone through since you left,” Thor said vehemently.

“What *has* happened to him?” Loki asked, curious despite himself.

Thor pulled a face. “He refuses to be left alone. He has a series of servants who have to stay with him at all times, even when he’s bathing. He changes them all the time too, I heard him mutter once that he couldn’t get comfortable with them, or ‘it’ stopped working. I don’t know what ‘it’ is though.”

Loki knew, but he didn’t say anything.

“Apart from this strange notion he’s the same as he ever was. He can, and does, rule effectively. I have taken on a large part of the day to day duties, but he is still the King proper, not just in name,” Thor continued.

“Did he ever mention me?” Loki asked.

“While you were gone? More than once. He said you had to come back, that you were at the centre of ‘it’, but in recent years he just says that he wishes he could talk to you. He tried to have Heimdall track you down so that he could meet you out in the stars, but you were cloaked from his sight,” Thor said.

“Yes, I was,” Loki said with a certain amount of satisfaction.

There was a knock on the door, making them both jump.

For a moment all Loki could think about was Odin, that somehow he’d tracked them down at the exact moment they’d been talking about him, but then common sense prevailed and he went to answer the door.

It was the warriors four. They were grinning at him as they stood in his new doorway.

“Loki! We have come to greet you in your new home,” Fandral said unnecessarily.

Loki rolled his eyes and stepped back to let them inside.

“I smell steak,” Volstagg said as he stepped into the house, followed by a young woman. “This is Corokat,” he said when he caught sight of Loki’s expression. “She’s the oldest daughter of my cook and is looking for a position. Thor told me that you’d have to hire one, and I can tell you right now that if she’s anything like her mother then you’ll be glad to take her on.”

Corokat curtsied; she looked a little embarrassed, but then Volstagg’s boisterous nature could often do that to people in the nearby vicinity.

“Well,” Loki said. “I don’t know the first thing about hiring a cook, but if Volstagg recommends you then welcome to the house. Uh, wages?”

He looked from Corokat to Volstagg and back again.

“Three gold coins a week if she can board here,” Volstagg said.

“All right,” Loki said. “Um, the kitchen’s not really set up properly yet, but if you could make me a list of things you need and what food you require for the larder I’ll give you the money.”

Corokat curtsied again. “Thank you, your Grace, I’ll get started right away,” she said.

“The cook’s bedroom is behind the kitchen,” Loki told her as she headed back there. Thor quickly left the kitchen, although ‘fled’ was probably the better word. Once a cook set foot in there it felt less like a meeting place and more like a domain ruled by foreign hands.

“Let’s sit in the living room,” Loki suggested.

“I still smell steak,” Volstagg said.

“Don’t be silly, Volstagg, there’s no steak here,” Fandral said. “Although I heard that a butcher in the centre of town was selling a cow’s head last night, the bidding got quite intense.”

Sif rolled her eyes. “That has to be a rumour,” she said. “There’s always a cow’s head somewhere.”

Loki and Thor exchanged glances.

“I think Corokat is about to start her first meal,” Loki said, and headed back to the kitchen as Thor’s mouth twitched.

Corokat was in the pantry inspecting the food with a look of absolute wonder.

“Do you think you could cook up something for us right away?” Loki asked from behind her, making her jump slightly.

“Yes, your Grace, do you have a preference?” she replied with a curtsy.

Loki waved a hand at her. “Please don’t curtsy, you’ll be at it all day,” he said with a smile. “And I think Volstagg the Svelte ought to be rewarded for his good sense of smell, some steaks please, they’re in the freezer.”

Corokat’s mouth twitched just a little, but otherwise she made no sign of amusement as she said “As you wish, your Grace. I’ve not yet seen any seasonings about, but I’ll see if I can make a good meal regardless.”

Loki decided that he liked her. He gave her another smile and a half-shrug. “I’m too used to camp food, I didn’t think of buying any seasonings, and here in the spice district as well.”

“If you’d be prepared to wait a little, I can nip out and get a few things,” Corokat offered as she placed tankards on a tray and reached into Loki’s fridge for some weak mead he’d bought earlier. “It won’t take long.”

Loki nodded. “Alright,” he said, digging into his pocket and retrieving a few coins.

Corokat wrote him a receipt, which surprised him.

“It’s how it works, your Grace,” she said at his look. “You put it in writing when you take your master’s money, that way everything can be open and honest.”

“Right,” Loki said, trying not to look embarrassed that he was being taught basic household management by his cook.

“I’ll be back and cooking before you know it, your Grace,” Corokat said. “Let me just bring your guests their drinks.”

Loki almost offered to take the tray, but he had a feeling that Corokat wanted to do everything properly; it was her first position as a cook after all.

“I’ll be getting a servant soon,” Loki told her as they walked down the corridor, “so you’ll have help.”

“As you wish, your Grace,” Corokat said.

She delivered the drinks, curtsied and left them in the living room.

“You’ve found yourself a nice house here, Loki,” Volstagg said with the eye of someone who’ had experience.

“Actually, Thor found it, I just approved of it,” Loki said with a smile.

Thor took a gulp of his mead and said nothing.

“The walls are a little bare though,” Volstagg said. “Surely you have a few trophies from your travels? You should put them up so that your visitors know who they are dealing with.”

“And who are they dealing with, Volstagg?” Loki asked. He found it amusing that he was being given decorating advice from any of the warrior’s four.

“A powerful man who is not to be crossed,” Volstagg said promptly and without any sign of deliberation.

Loki was taken aback slightly, but recovered well as Thor asked. “Were any of you planning to join the battalion and head out to the further fields? There have been reports of raids on the crops.”

“I am,” Sif said, “and Fandral.”

“Yes, the raiders will probably turn out to be children like last time, but we can’t let them get away with it, those crops must be shared with all the people,” Fandral said. “Hopefully we can scare them into stopping, they should have ration books like the rest of us, there is no need to steal extra.”

The conversation turned to the rations themselves and the weakness of the current fare available.

“I still say the ban on hunting game birds should be lifted,” Fandral argued. “I know they were almost hunted to extinction in the first ten years but their population has recovered now, and with Vanaheim sending their harvests again it won’t be long before the hunting falls back to acceptable levels again.”

“We don’t know that,” Thor said quietly. “Vanaheim *is* shipping food, but it’s nowhere near the amount we used to get, with the damage done by their civil war it may be some time before they can spare enough for us to be as we once were.”

“It’s scary to think how much we relied on them,” Sif said. “It never occurred to me before but their absence shook the nine realms.”

“Any realm’s absence would shake us,” Thor said. “We are linked by a common heritage, by our place in the galaxy, by the seidr that is woven through us all. We are symbiotic, or at least, we are supposed to be.”

Loki found himself looking at Thor with admiration in his eyes. This was something both princes had been taught early on in their education, but Thor had never seemed to take it on board.

‘He’s grown up,’ Loki thought, ‘no longer my handsome boy, but a true man.’

Did he like this change? Oh yes, yes he did.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by the sound of the door opening in the hall. Corokat had returned. 

Loki smiled to himself.

“What amuses you, Loki?” Fandral asked, spotting the look.

“Nothing much,” Loki said mildly. 

It would take a few minutes for Corokat to start cooking, another few for the smell of steak to waft through the house. 

“I don’t like it, he’s up to something,” Fandral said.

Sif rolled her eyes. Hogun said nothing. Volstagg frowned slightly. 

Thor was smiling as well at this point. They looked like a pair of evil partners in crime.

“I heard about the cows head,” Loki said quietly. “It was a butcher down Demandes Lane.”

“I heard that too,” Thor said. “I wonder where he could have gotten it from?”

“It’s only a rumour,” Sif said as the faint sounds of sizzling began on the edge of hearing, “no one has any cow, not anymore, they’re too expensive when the grain they eat could feed a dozen people.”

“I don’t know,” Thor said, grinning. “I spoke to a man who saw it with his own eyes, and I have always found him to be trustworthy.”

“Even the most trustworthy man can pull the crown prince’s leg now and again,” Fandral said. “He was joking with you, Thor, nothing more.”

Thor looked at Loki and shrugged. “He was joking with me,” he said seriously.

“So I heard,” Loki replied, equally serious.

Volstagg sniffed the air. “I swear I can smell steak,” he said.

“You’ve been saying that since steak abandoned us,” Fandral began, but Sif was now sniffing the air as well.

“What is Corokat cooking in there?” she asked suspiciously.

“Steak,” Loki said, deadpan.

Volstagg actually left his seat to go and see. Fandral swallowed hard and tried not to look like he wanted to follow. Sif glanced between Loki and Thor, her eyes searching for any trick.

“You really have steak?” she asked Loki.

“My grandparents send me some food to tide me over,” Loki said. “They weren’t sure how long I’d have to go without a ration book.”

“We’re having steak?” Fandral said, as though he still couldn’t believe it.

Loki grinned. “With spices,” he said cheerfully.

Thor broke out laughing at the look on their faces. Loki couldn’t help but join in.

“I think our grandparents will have to send me more food sooner than they thought,” Loki said.

“I think so,” Thor chuckled. “Because now that Volstagg knows you have steak he’ll be visiting every day.”

Loki smiled. “I wouldn’t mind that,” he said, looking at Thor “as long as he brings his friends with him.”


	80. Seventy Nine Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Terrible Visitor

Loki wrote a letter to his grandparents first thing the next morning. He described the situation in Asgard and the reaction of the warrior’s four to having their first steak in decades.

It had been eye-opening. Volstagg had not been alone in stripping the bone of all traces of meat. Fandral had abandoned his usual decorum and actually allowed a little of the sauce Corokat whipped up to smear the corner of his mouth. Sif had been more restrained, but even she had been unable to set a truly sedate pace. Hogun was the same, he’d spent decades fighting in the Vanir war and the fair had been plain, sometimes involving rats or bugs, he ate everything on his plate and wiped the dish with bread.

Loki and Thor had eaten a second steak each, although they shared their vegetables with the others who finished them off with a murmur of thanks.

Loki included all of that in his letter, along with a request for some more food when convenient, as he was definitely not just cooking for himself.

He wrote another letter to Musleen and Daenceia, and another to Camtan and Sofftia, before a knock on the door alerted him to Corokat’s presence.

She gave him a nod of respect as she placed the breakfast tray on the far end of his table, away from his papers. 

“Thank you,” Loki said. 

“Do you often rise before the sun, your Grace?” she asked him. “I can bring you breakfast earlier if you desire it?”

“No, sunrise is a good time to start eating,” Loki said. “I wanted to ask you something before you go.”

“Yes, your Grace?”

“It’s about your role.”

“Yes, your Grace.”

She sounded a little wary, and Loki realised that she was worried he wasn’t happy with her.

“I just want to understand it,” he said quickly. “You see, I’ve always had servants, but they were hired by the palace, both the palaces, I’m a little lost as to how things work in a household of this size. I asked Volstagg yesterday what was typical and he said that you knew what to do, but *I* don’t.”

Corokat looked as though she was trying to suppress a smile. 

“Very well, your Grace, I’m a new cook, but I worked as a kitchen-hand and then a maid for the last hundred years, what would you like to know?”

Loki gave an awkward grin. “Food,” he said. “I know that the servants’ food comes out of the household budget, but how does that work with the ration booklets?”

“The short answer, your Grace, is that it doesn’t. Servants get the same rations as everyone else and they feed themselves from it and the rest of the household from what they get,” Corokat said. “It’s an unforseen side effect of the famine, but we are all made more equal.”

“Does it really?” Loki asked bluntly.

Corokat’s face went carefully blank. “Of course it does, your Grace,” she said.

“And no one in the bigger households demands more of their servants’ share?” Loki pressed.

Corokat’s careful expression told him the answer, even as she carefully said, “No, your Grace.”

“You are welcome to eat from my larder, Corokat,” Loki said seriously. “I would not have you watch me eat such rich food while you live on rations.” Corokat curtsied; Loki didn’t try to stop her. “I mean it,” he said. “You can add your rations in as well if you like, or send them to your family, I don’t care; I want my household to eat well.”

“Thank you, your Grace,” Corokat said quietly.

“Now, how does the shopping work? I know you went out yesterday, do I give you some money regularly or do you ask as you need it?”

“A regular amount for the household budget is normal, your Grace,” Corokat said; she seemed more at ease now that the topic of conversation had moved away from the less-desirable traits of nobles.

“How much is normal?” Loki asked, aware that he was trusting her rather a lot considering they’d only met yesterday. But it wasn’t really her he trusted, it was Volstagg and his ability to choose wisely.

Corokat’s face told him that Loki’s question was abnormal.

“Well, your Grace, you would normally give me instructions as to what you wished to have for dinner for the week, if it’s typical noble fare then you give me the standard amount, which we’d work out over a few weeks as I buy for you and see what the staples normally come to, if you ask for something special then you’d give me a little more to cover it. At the end of every week I give you the change and the receipts from the vendors so that you can do the household accounts. If you’d like I can go out today and do a costings of what’s available that you need, we can work out the weekly amount from that.”

Loki nodded. “Sounds reasonable,” he said. “Thanks for that, Corokat.”

‘’I will do it this morning, your Grace,” Corokat said, “after you’ve finished with breakfast.”

Loki put his pen down and shuffled over to the tray of food.

“Alright I can take a hint,” he muttered, shooting her a smile so that she knew he was teasing.

Corokat curtsied and left him to it. He thought he saw a twinkle of amusement in her eye.

****

Loki spent the morning unpacking his bag. By lunchtime he had only just finished unpacking his clothes and half his books. His seidr equipment would have to wait until the afternoon.

He got himself a drink of mead from the fridge, Corokat was due back any minute but he didn’t feel like waiting, besides, she’d be making him lunch as soon as she was in. He pulled a face at the weakness of the mead as the taste hit his tongue.

‘I wonder how easy it is to brew my own?’ he thought as he walked through to his living room. ‘I bet Grandfather would send me what I needed.’

His musings were interrupted by a knock on the door.

‘Thor,’ Loki thought immediately, turning and striding quickly to the little entrance hall and pulling open the door.

It was not Thor.

It was Odin.

They stared at one another for a few seconds in silence.

“Lok-“ Odin began, but he was cut off by Loki slamming the door in his face.

Loki locked the door and backed away from it in alarm. He was here, Odin was here. What did he want?!

Loki put his almost empty glass down and ran back up the stairs to where he’d left his knives. He could hear Odin knocking at the door and the faint sound of him calling Loki’s name.

Loki didn’t know what would happen, but he was damn sure he wasn’t going to face Odin without a weapon in his hand.

The knocking continued; it was getting quite loud now.

Loki headed back downstairs and faced the door, knife in hand. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do with it, but he felt better for the feel of it in his palm.

He crept closer to the door as Odin knocked again. Technically it was against the law to deny entry to the King of Asgard. Loki wondered if Odin would try to enforce the ruling or not.

“Loki!” Odin called through the door, which made his voice sound muffled. “Loki, open the door!”

Loki scowled. A command, directed straight at him. He slipped down the last of the stairs and reached for the latch. With a smooth movement he unlocked the door and pulled it open.

Odin was in the process of going to knock again; his hand was raised in a fist. Loki glared at it until Odin lowered it back down to his side.

Loki made a show of inspecting the door for damage.

“Loki, I saw you had returned,” Odin said. “I would like to speak to you in private.”

“Are you *sure* you want that?” Loki asked, his voice was acidic and contained more than a little bit of hiss.

“Yes,” Odin said, although Loki noticed that he looked nervous and was trying to cover it. “We need to speak.”

Loki stepped back and allowed Odin to cross the threshold. “I’m not convinced we do,” he said as he gestured for Odin to make his way into the living room, “but by all means, try to convince me otherwise.”

Odin entered the living room and sat in one of the armchairs. Loki sat opposite him, as far away as he could get while still technically being civil.

“You have rented a good house,” Odin commented.

Loki said nothing. He had nothing to say. Inside his chest, his heart was pounding in a mixture of fear and anger. He wasn’t ready to speak to Odin! His brash and aggressive manner was a front, and he suspected that Odin knew it.

“I came to apologise to you, Loki, and to beg your forgiveness.”

Of all the words Loki expected Odin to say, those had not been among them.

“What?” Loki said bluntly, feeling as though the breath had been knocked clean out of his lungs.

Odin sighed and slumped in his chair. “I know what is happening to me,” he said, sounding defeated. “Every moment of my day is spent in fear of the shadows that come for me, every night my sleep is interrupted by nightmares of *him*. I am living your nightmare, Loki, which is more than fitting because I sent you to his bed. I had no idea, and I didn’t listen when I was told. I should have brought you home, I never should have sent you, I should have *protected* you. I have failed you as a father and as a King. I will never be able to make it up to you, but I beg you, please, please help me and remove this curse. I can’t live with it anymore.”

Loki was nonplussed. The last time he’d seen his father he’d yelled at him, he’d screamed and run away as fast as he could. Now Odin was smaller, weakened by the curse. He looked like an old man.

‘Good,’ Loki thought viciously.

‘You wanted to be civil,’ his other thoughts pointed out.

‘Let him suffer.’

‘Lift the curse.’

‘Why? He’s a bastard.’

‘I know, but are you?’

Oblivious to Loki’s silent argument, Odin watched the walls with a nervous air. The shadows were gathering, forming themselves into a familiar and terrifying shape.

Loki stood and waved a hand. The shadows exploded silently into nothing.

“There, your curse is lifted,” he said, “now get out. This is my house and I don’t want you here.”

Odin stood slowly, still glancing at the walls. “You lifted it?” he asked. “With just a wave of your hand?”

He sounded completely nonplussed.

Loki stared at him calmly, although inside he couldn’t be more unsettled. “I have travelled and I have learnt, yes, I lifted it. But I didn’t cast it, no, you can go on wondering who hates you enough to do that,” he said with a sneer in his voice.

“Thank you,” Odin said quietly.

There was an awkward silence as they stared at each other. Then Odin turned and walked out of the house; Loki didn’t bother to follow him. He was too busy trying to calm his pounding heart.

He was still sitting there when Corokat returned a few minutes later. Without a word she fetched him another glass of mead and then set about making his lunch. By the time she was done Loki had managed to calm himself down enough to think about what had just happened.

Odin had apologised. He’d felt guilty and apologised, which was exactly what Loki wanted and never thought he’d get. 

According to the conditions of the curse, it should have lifted soon anyway, as feeling guilty and apologising were the two things Odin needed to do to break it.

Loki did not plan on telling him that, not ever. Odin knew Loki’s strength now, he knew not to challenge him, or to try and bully him. Loki would never again do that man’s bidding, not for the good of Asgard, not for anyone.

After lunch he headed into his study to reply to the Heterwart traders; he wanted them to start trading again on his behalf as soon as possible. He was only there for a minute before he was stifling a sob, but whether it was of anger, fear, relief of some bizarre combination of the three he had no idea. 

Right now he really wished he had someone to talk to. He wanted his mother, or his grandparents, maybe even Musleen with his quiet, serious way of listening. 

He was shaking badly, and sweat was beading on his forehead.

Damn Odin. Damn him. Loki hadn’t been ready! It’d happened so fast and now it was over and Loki had his apology but he’d been too startled to appreciate it, and now it was done and Odin was gone and the curse was lifted. Should he have lifted it? It would have lifted anyway, as long as Odin was serious in his regret and guilt, but what if he wasn’t, what if it was all a lie and Loki fell for it?

It didn’t matter now, it was done.

Loki looked at the letters in front of him. He needed to get them sent as soon as possible before someone else broke into the market. He forced himself to take a deep breath, then another. Put it behind him. Think about something else. Be calm. He had more important things to worry about.

There was a knock on the door, although it was less of a knock and more of a resounding crash.

Loki groaned and let his head hit the desk. Was he destined to have no peace at all?

There was the sound of an argument beginning downstairs. Loki could hear the raised voices.

He rose and quickly made his way down the stairs, stopping halfway when he saw Corokat standing nose to nose with Thor, blocking him from heading up.

“If you’ll wait in the living room, your Grace, I shall inform my master that you are here,” Corokat said in a firm, yet slightly trembling, voice.

“I need to see Loki, move aside!” Thor answered.

“I’m here,” Loki said softly.

They both looked up. Corokat’s eyes were concerned, Thor’s shone with worry.

“Thank you Corokat, you may let him through, and Thor? Don’t yell at my cook, she’s following protocol and you know it.”

Thor flinched and looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Ma’am, I was being rude,” he said.

Corokat curtsied. “That’s alright, your Grace,” she said softly.

“Come upstairs, Thor, so we can talk,” Loki said. 

Thor followed him up to his study and they sat down in the chairs by the window.

“Odin came by here this morning,” Loki said, trying to sound calm.

Thor winced. “I did not know he was going to, I did not know he knew where you lived,” he said. “He asked me to run the ration council meeting, which he does from time to time, I thought nothing of it until it was over and Fandral was waiting for me outside. He said Odin had ridden off toward the spice district and that he was worried that he might have gone to see you. I flew here as fast as I could and I saw him riding back towards the palace from the air. Are you alright, Loki? Did he threaten you?”

“Threaten me?” Loki asked. “No, he didn’t threaten me… he apologised to me.”

“What?” Thor exclaimed. “He did what? But… he never… he really did that?”

“Yes,” Loki said; his hands were shaking again. “I wasn’t expecting it, I truly thought he’d come to command me, but he didn’t, he asked for my forgiveness.”

There was a pause.

“I didn’t give it,” Loki said.

Thor nodded curtly. “He doesn’t deserve it,” he said firmly. “Are you alright?”

Loki rubbed his palms against his pant legs. “I don’t know,” he confessed. “I feel as though something big and horrible has suddenly gone away, but I wasn’t expecting it to, so now there’s a void instead. Does that make any sense?”

Thor shrugged. “Sort of,” he said uncertainly. “I thought he’d fight your decision to be here.”

“I thought so too,” Loki said. “Now I don’t know what to think.”

“Forget about him,” Thor said suddenly, and with a hint of anger. “He’s the King of Asgard, but he’s nothing to either one of us, let’s stop dwelling on him and his motives and think about better things.”

“Like an adventure?” Loki suggested. “A quest for glory?”

Thor smiled a little sadly. “I don’t think it would be entirely appropriate at the moment,” he said. “The people need their prince to be here for them.”

Loki shook his head. “The people need to know that their prince is as strong as ever,” he said. “You should go and slay a dragon or something, bring its meat back for them to feast on; no one will say you should stay in the city then.”

Thor grinned. “Find me a dragon and I’ll slay it mightily,” he promised. 

“Don’t tempt me,” Loki countered. “I know where a few of them are hiding.”

Thor sat down again and faced Loki seriously. 

“Are you certain that you are well?” he asked. “I don’t wish to hover about you all the time but I know you weren’t ready to see him.”

“Sometimes you have to take a very deep breath, close your eyes and jump,” Loki said, repeating the words Visxena had said to him over a hundred years ago. “I do feel better for having spoken to him, I imagine this feeling that Asgard has tilted underneath me will fade in time.”

“You are taking this very well,” Thor said carefully.

Loki took a deep breath. “It’s about time I took something well,” he said with just a hint of warning in his voice. He *was* reacting calmly… now, but he still wanted to move away from the topic, it was starting to get to him again.

Perhaps Thor realised it, because he said, “What were you doing this afternoon?”

“I was going to draft an advertisement for a servant,” Loki said. “I did some checking and the noble house will often advertise in a central location. After that I had planned to unpack my seidr equipment, the workbench won’t be ready for a few weeks yet though so there’s no rush.”

“How about a ride through the city instead?” Thor suggested. “You can re-familiarise yourself with everything.”

Loki thought about it. “Sounds good,” he said, “but you don’t have a horse down here.”

Thor shrugged. “A walk then, we can walk Lightning up to the exercise yards by the Spice Gardens and put him through a workout.”

“He’ll need it,” Loki said. “He’s not meant to be idle. Very well, let me write out this letter and pull on my riding things, and then we’ll go.”

They spent a pleasant afternoon together, just the two of them, before returning to Loki’s for dinner. Afterwards, Thor bid him a goodnight and flew back to the palace, determined to speak to their father, although he did not say so to Loki.

Thor wanted answers, and he wanted them from the source.

****

Odin was in his study when Thor banged hard on the door. He’d been in there alone for an hour now, and had spent the whole time fighting the urge to call someone in, just in case, but it appeared that the curse had truly been lifted; the threat of the old king was gone.

It was a relief, but also a terrible reminder of how Loki must have felt after the king’s death. Odin was still checking the shadows for any sign of him, still dreading going to sleep that night in case of nightmares. 

He was utterly ashamed of himself, and he wished there was a way he could make it right.

He’d lost everything. Loki, Thor, Frigga, his very sanity at times. He knew that his family hated him, he knew that he deserved it.

He was a lonely man, in a big palace that had never felt so empty. How could he have ever sent his son to such a monster? How could he have ever been so dismissive, so uncaring? 

He’d apologised to Loki, but that apology had not been accepted. Loki may have removed the curse, but only, Odin suspected, so that Odin would stay out of his life from this point onwards. 

He could respect Loki’s wishes, although he hated it. A century of torture had taught Odin that his pride had destroyed him, his unwillingness to see Loki and Thor’s love for one another as true. He’d honestly thought it was a childhood crush! He’d thought Loki would go away, come home and it would all be forgotten.

No. He’d been such a fool. Those two were made for one another, and if Odin had been half as wise as he’d thought he was he’d have fought to keep them together instead of being the mechanism by which they were torn apart.

He hoped they’d find a way to be together now. The light had come back to Thor’s eyes these past few days, and Loki had been a lot stronger, if the few brief minutes Odin had witnessed were anything to go by.

He closed his eyes and tried to banish the harsh thoughts that plagued him. He wouldn’t be standing in their way, he resolved, if they wished to wed he’d help to make it happen.

A knock on the door startled him, it sounded angry.

Thor. It had to be.

“Come in,” Odin called, giving the shadows one last glance before turning his attention to the opening door.

Thor walked in and strode up to the desk.

“Why did you go to see Loki?” he asked forcefully.

“I had to ask him something,” Odin said softly.

“He had no desire to see you,” Thor said. _“None.”_

“I know,” Odin said. “He made that clear himself. Do not worry yourself further, Thor, I have no intention of trespassing on his time again.”

“Is it done now? The thing that has been plaguing you? You said Loki was at the centre of ‘it’, is ‘it’ gone?” Thor demanded.

Odin had never gone into detail about his curse, he suspected Thor wouldn’t care, or worse, be pleased.

“Yes it’s over, Loki was kind enough to end it,” he said.

Thor’s eyes narrowed. “You mean you ordered him to,” he said.

Odin shook his head. “I asked,” he said. “I begged, I pleaded, and as a kindness to me, Loki listened and released me. I will not speak to him again, Thor, he made it clear I was not wanted and I intend to honour his wishes.”

Thor looked a little lost for a moment. “You *pleaded?*” he repeated.

“I did,” Odin said softly.

He turned and looked at Thor with an exhausted gaze. “I deserved every minute of it, and I begged for it to be over,” he said to Thor’s startled expression. “Tell me, do you still intend to marry him?”

Thor’s face became pinched. “He does not every wish to be a queen again,” he said. “But he’s here to stay, and that’s all that matters.”

“I doubt you’d ever force him to be anything other than himself, even if he were your queen,” Odin said. “I hope you find happiness with each other, I hope you work things out.”

Thor was looking utterly bewildered by the turn the conversation had taken.

“You should never have sent him,” he said, falling back on his oldest argument.

“I know,” Odin said. “I was a fool, and I will never forgive myself, nor blame Loki if he chooses never to forgive me.”

Thor stood up, looking shocked. “You-“ he started, but did not finish. He couldn’t think of what he wanted to say.

“Tell Loki, if he’d consent to hear from me that is, that I will never again stand in his way, or even try,” Odin said. “Tell him that I should have loved him enough to protect him, and that I admire his strength in the face of that which I struggled to deal with myself.”

Thor turned and left without a word, he was too shocked to think of anything to say.


	81. Eighty Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Passing of Time

A few weeks later and Loki had settled in properly. His things were unpacked, his workbench had arrived and was installed, and more food had arrived from his Grandmother, who had written him an eight page letter filled with concern that he might be losing weight.

Loki write back to assure him that he was not, and that as a matter of fact everyone who visited him regularly was *gaining* weight instead.

The Warriors Four were frequent visitors, along with some of Loki’s old friends from childhood and new friends from the surrounding streets. There were more than a few spice merchants who were also mages, and they often gathered to discuss their current workings. They welcomed Loki as a fellow trader, due to the Heterwart market which he’d successfully relaunched in Vanaheim and, to a lesser extent, in Asgard as well. He had his own stall in the nearby market where the traders could come to sell. It had been running for a week and the signs were good so far.

Beyond that though, Loki was encountering a slight problem with his return home.

He was bored.

Say what you like about a civil war, it was never dull or boring. Now that he had free time, Loki was desperate to fill it.

So, he did what he’d grown into the habit of doing these past few weeks whenever he wanted advice about something: he asked Thor.

“I just want something I can do that holds my interest and is productive,” Loki explained as his new servant, Hoeldyr, placed their lunch in front of them.

“You could try some seidr research?” Thor suggested. “Is there anything you wish to know more about?”

Loki shook his head. He already had studies underway, Fomalen’s old, dark seidr books had proved fascinating so far and he’d hardly started, but he couldn’t spend all his time on it.

“I used to sponsor students at the Tower,” he said. “I still do, actually, although Daenceia’s running the day to day stuff for me back there. I’d like to do something like that here, although Asgard does not have a central school for seidr.”

“Mother used to run a few charities around education. I’ve taken them over now, if you wanted to help I’d be grateful,” Thor said. “I’ve been working on the ration councils and the defence patrols and I haven’t been able to devote as much time to the charities as I’d like.”

Loki thought about it. “These charities, whom do they benefit?” he asked.

“The children of nobles who have fallen on hard times,” Thor said. “They cannot afford to give their children the level of education that they require to succeed in court.”

Loki drummed his fingers on the table while he thought. “Thainia and Shiarpia used to run a hospital for the poor people in Vanaheim,” he said. “Thainia healed them and Shiarpia taught them things like hygiene and basic education so that they could improve themselves. That was before the war, but I think they were planning to go back to it. I think I’d like to do something like that, something that helps those on the lowest levels. Nobles will always take care of each other, but there’s no one to help the poor.”

Thor nodded slowly. “I like the idea,” he said, “and I wish you good luck, although I have no idea where you’d start.”

“I’d start with a building,” Loki said, thinking of the diamonds he still had upstairs. “Then I’d fill it with healers and teachers.”

“You make it sound so simple,” Thor said.

Loki smiled at him. “It won’t be, but I subscribe to the theory that if you sound confident then others will follow you, and then things will work out the way you want them too.”

****

Early one morning the following week, Loki saddled up Lightning and rode down to the area known as The Slums. The suburbs within The Slums all had names but nobody ever used them. The place was dirty with muck and mud, but not papers or any form of rubbish. The people were were too poor to waste something like that. There was always a use for *something*.

There were plants growing in some of the thicker mud patches. Loki realised with a start that they were vegetables. Someone always sat beside the patches where they appeared, holding a weapon and watching the people passing with a suspicious gaze.

Loki rode onwards, scanning the houses and buildings for something suitable. It would have to be big enough to install a hospital, although it would take a while for it to build up to a good size. He wished Thainia was with him, she’d know what to look for better than he would.

He was in an area known as The Catchment before he found what he was looking for. It was quite far into the slums, and the building was very clearly abandoned, but it had been built from solid foundations back when this area had been thriving with the hustle and bustle of merchants, before the land further to the west of the city had been claimed and deemed more suitable. It was, Loki realised, an old trading hall. It would be perfect…eventually.

He took note of the address so that he could inquire at the Records Office as to who owned it currently, before turning Lightning and making his way back through the area.

He was being watched.

Loki could sense them lurking in the shadows, eyeing his cloak and pricing Lightning as they made ready their weapons.

Loki stayed calm and kept a good hold on Lightning’s reins. If he was able to purchase the building, then very soon builders and carpenters would be coming here every day. Loki needed the people to respect him, and the men he sent to escort them while they worked.

A man stepped out into Loki’s path. He was holding a knife.

Loki pulled Lightning up and regarded him with a steady gaze. He was aware of the men closing in behind him, but he wasn’t worried. 

“My horse will kick the first man that gets too close back there,” he called out, not taking his eyes off the man before him, “and his kick is strong enough to kill. I suggest you all come to the front so that we can talk as equals.”

“Equals?” The man in front of him exclaimed. “Equals? He thinks we’re equals, lads!”

There was some laughter. Loki did not join in.

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t want to be equals,” he said. “I’ve come here in good faith.”

“You’ll leave without any,” the man said, smiling cruelly.

Loki suppressed his sigh. He knew he’s run into trouble with the local gangs, but he’d been hoping that they would see what he was about and give him a chance. Unfortunately he doubted he’d be given the chance to explain.

Someone got too close to Lightning and Loki felt the horse tense. He held on as Lightning kicked backwards, sending whoever it was flying backwards into at least one colleague, maybe two.

“I’ve come here to find a building,” Loki said. “I wish to convert one into a hospital for the people here.”

The man laughed. “Sure you do, and then you’ll be placing guards to protect it, and when you’re done with whatever you’re really doing, you’ll leave us with the mess. What are you smuggling, noble? What new pile of shit are you planning to dump on us? Whatever it is, we don’t want it, we don’t care for it, and we won’t let you do it here.“

Loki nodded slowly in understanding. “I see your point,” he said.

“Good,” the man said. “We’ll be taking your belongings in payment for your life, fair trade I feel.”

Loki shook his head slowly. “I said I saw your point, I never said I agreed with it,” he clarified. “I will be building a hospital here. I will be building a school here. The healthcare and education will be free for all residents of The Catchment, The Swoop, Claw’s Reach and Procure.”

The man looked astonished at Loki’s use of the true names of the suburbs that made up the slums.

“I hope that you will not stand in my way, but if you do, I will oppose you,” Loki finished calmly.

“Like Hel,” same someone from behind him. “We won’t be held responsible for your smuggling, not like last time!”

“Last time?” Loki asked, suddenly curious. “What happened last time?”

“As if you don’t know,” the man in front spat. He made a gesture and Loki heard the men behind him start to move in.

He held his arms out and pushed with his seidr. As much as he would have liked to get into the heart of a good, hard, fight, he wasn’t here for that, and he didn’t want to kill those he’d come to help.

Of course, if they attacked his hospital then all bets were off, but that hadn’t happened yet.

The men were pushed back, and Loki calmly rode Lightning through the streets, ignoring them as they trailed behind him trying to get through his shield.

****

The building belonged to the crown. Most of the abandoned buildings down that way did. Loki sent an official letter to the palace requesting that he be permitted to purchase the building for his own use. Acceptance of his request was swift and the price asked for only a pittance, even for the slums.

‘It had to be Thor,’ Loki thought as he signed the required documents to secure the sale, and it was with surprise that he saw Odin’s signature on the bottom of the contract.

Loki felt his throat constrict slightly, but he reminded himself firmly that he never had to see that man again unless he chose to.

A thought in the back of his mind reminded him that numbers 4 and 7 on his list named Odin specifically, but for now Loki dismissed it. He wasn’t ready, Odin would keep, for now Loki was determined to make his hospital and school work.

And if Odin wanted to practically gift him a building for this purpose, then Loki wasn’t foolish enough to turn it down.

He headed straight from the Records Office to a local architect’s office. Loki had chosen her especially because she’d designed hospitals before, and she knew what would work best far better than Loki would.

The architect’s name was Delsignia, and she was close to Frigga in age. She received Loki warmly and offered him a drink before settling in to talk about his project.

“Did you bring the current plans for the building, your Grace?” she asked politely.

Loki pulled them out of his bag and they unfolded them on top of her desk.

“This is good,” she said. “Solid foundations and a good existing layout, I’d recommend putting the surgical ward over here, the recovery centres can go here and here, now, the bottom floor you wish to turn into a school? That can go down this end, away from the infection and illness ward, and the children will need a yard of some kind for exercise and play between classes. Should there be a kitchen? Are you planning to provide for their lunch? I would recommend it as an extra incentive to attend classes, and there’s a good place for it here on the ground floor. The hospital will definitely need one, and I’d recommend something bigger placed here on the first floor.”

Loki followed her speech as she drew over the existing plans in pencil. He was suddenly extremely glad that he’d decided to engage her.

“Yes a kitchen for the school is a good idea,” he said. “Maybe it can be opened to the public in between times? The rations you get from the ticket system are often in the form of raw materials, I have no idea what those without access to a kitchen do to feed themselves.”

“They probably trade it for something already made,” Delsignia said, “at a loss of course. The poor will always be worse off under any system.”

Loki thought about Corokat’s carefully worded explanation of how the servants got by and nodded. “If we can give them a place to cook it themselves, maybe we can shift the balance a little,” he said.

Delsignia nodded. “I’ll get started on turning this into some proper plans. It should be ready for review in two weeks,” she said.

Loki nodded. “Thank you, I’ll come back then and you can take me through it.”

****

The weeks slowly turned into months. Loki threw himself into his new combined Health Care and Education Centre, finding builders willing to go into The Slums as well as providing protection for them. Thor and the Warrior’s Four helped a great deal, escorting the men and women in and out each day as well as standing guard over them as they worked.

It was rough, Loki wanted the people to trust him, but he also knew that trust had to be earned, and until that happened, he needed to guarantee protection for the builders.

He also needed to find healers willing to work in such places. That was a tough ask, but Loki had found everyone’s weak spot, at least for a few more years. 

Food. He paid them in free meals, made on site by three trained cooks. Loki bought all the food from the eastern fields of Vanaheim. Aided by his grandparents, fresh vegetables and cartloads of flour found their way to the Centre. 

The Hospital part of the Centre opened without much fanfare. Loki did not think the people of the area would trust a happy celebration. No one ever did anything nice for them; no one ever helped them out. Instead, he relied on two things, desperation and word of mouth. He visited the poverty stricken marketplaces in The Slums and advised anyone he saw there who needed care that they would find it, for free, at the Centre. He casually mentioned the free meals that came with being admitted into the Hospital, and he refused to be discouraged when the place remained almost empty in the first few months.

“Maybe the poor don’t want to be helped?” Thor had speculated as they spent a day out together.

“No,” Loki said. “They have no reason to trust us, because we’ve never given them one. Give it time, Thor, they will change their minds.”

It took almost six months for the Centre’s reputation to spread. Loki had to pay for guards to remain in the building to fend off attacks from the less welcoming people in the area. More than a few accused him of ‘smuggling’, which still confused him, as no one in the area would explain who had done so in the past or what had happened as a result, but slowly, as desperate people with nowhere else to turn came through the door, the Centre became known as a place of safety.

One year after the Centre opened, Loki watched with proud eyes as the first students came to the newly opened school. He hadn’t tried to force the education side of things right away, as the poor were slow to trust anyone with money, and doubly so if they had noble blood, but after a year of providing care, they were willing to let their children come and learn.

The school taught reading and writing, as well as practical things like wage management, tax forms, and basic life skills. There was a standing order among the teachers to identify anyone with high mental skills so that they could be offered a more challenging, and ultimately more rewarding, course structure, but for the most part Loki didn’t want to frighten them off by pushing too much too soon. 

It was working. The area around the Centre had improved. The graffiti stayed away longer each time after it was painted over. The overall health of the area had improved drastically and the death rate due to illness had dropped a statistically significant amount. People were now trying to move into the area, granted, it was from other suburbs within The Slums, but they came because they wanted a better life. 

The rooftop of the Hospital had been converted into a vegetable garden, and the yard where the children played had real lawn, a rarity outside of noble households. The sewing classes let the children keep what they made, and the shoemaking classes did the same. A hardworking child could provide a new tunic or dress and a new pair of shoes to their entire family over the course of one or two years, depending on how many siblings they had.

They were also taught how to grown crops up on the roof, and how to cook in the school kitchens. Those who chose to pursue either area as a career were encouraged to do so. 

In the school’s third year, Loki purchased the building next door. In the school’s fourth year, he opened the new ‘Blacksmith, Metallurgy and Gymnasium’ wing of the school. 

In the fifth year he opened the seidr wing. It would never rival the magnificence of the Tower in Vanaheim, but Loki was sure that with the proper training, there were a number of students who could go quite far.

Loki wrote to Daenceia and asked her to inquire around on his behalf and see if there was anyone at the Tower who wouldn’t mind working as a teacher in Asgard. He was rewarded when one of his old sponsored students agreed to take up the post.

She was exactly what he’d been hoping for and more. She knew all the basics, which was what most of the students would learn, and had a good eye for potential. 

It also helped that she had once been a street vendor’s daughter, a girl who had spent her childhood collecting rags and washing them in storm-water puddles so that they might be sold for a pittance. She knew these people, she knew how they thought, and they in turn knew that they could trust her.

Loki told her to inform him if there were any students who would benefit from attending the Tower, as he would arrange a scholarship. This shocked the whole area when the first student was selected and offered the opportunity to study greater seidr in Vanaheim, but she quickly made her family, The Slums, and the Aesir people proud.

****

It was in the sixth year that Loki encountered the leader of the local gang again. He’d always been in the background, watching with suspicious eyes and a threatening stance. Several times the guards at the Centre had been forced to defend attacks that ranged from stones being thrown to a fire being set at the back entrance. 

Loki had written fire-prevention runes all over the building as a minimum the day it was finished, so no harm was done, but still the threat remained.

Now the leader was back, escorted by his men, and suffering from a stab wound.

Loki bit his lip when it was reported to him, but he was glad to hear that the healers had treated the man the same as everyone else. 

He was less pleased to hear that the man had insisted on having his entire gang come in there with him, and that they had taken up space that could be used to treat other people.

“I’ll need to sort it out,” Loki said apologetically to Thor, who had come to spend the day with him. “I hope it won’t take long, but if he won’t listen to the guards or the healers then I have to intervene.”

“I understand,” Thor said with a smile. “Shall I accompany you or wait for you here?”

“You can come, but I need to speak to him alone, I don’t want your presence causing upset,” Loki said.

They rode to the Centre and dismounted in the little stable area kept aside for the few people who actually owned horses. Thor stabled his horse and Lightning while Loki made his way inside and up to the recovery wing.

He was stopped by one of the healers, who looked at him anxiously.

“His men are making it impossible to care for our patients,” she said. “They threatened me the last time I went in there, told me I’d be punished for my role in all of this.”

Loki’s face darkened. It was hard enough getting trained people to work out at the Centre, threats would make those he *had* managed to get leave without so much as a look back.

“I’ll speak to them,” Loki said in a low tone.

He walked through the doors to the recovery wing and headed straight for the crowd of men gathered around one ward.

“Which one of you threatened the healer?” he snapped, making them jump in surprise.

“This is our place,” said a voice from the bed. “We don’t want you here.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “You are receiving treatment here,” he said. “Were we suppose to leave you to die?”

“How do I know you didn’t arrange this?” said the voice. The crowd parted to reveal the leader of the gang. He looked well for a man who had been stabbed the night before, a testament to the treatment he’d received.

“Why would I? If you don’t want to be here then leave. You’re preventing *your people* from receiving care,” Loki said.

The man’s eyes narrowed. “You’re playing a long game, but I’m not fooled. You’ll leave us high and dry before too long, and *my people* will bear the brunt of it.”

“What happened here, to make you believe so strongly that I’m out to get you?” Loki snapped.

“You’re not ‘out to get us’, you don’t give a damn what happens to us, that’s why it’s going to go wrong when you leave,” the man said. “I’ve done some checking into your background, I know who you are, although you’ve never said, never told anyone here.”

Loki resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. It was true that he hadn’t introduced himself as anything other than ‘Loki’, but he’d never actually tried to hide his status either.

“You’re Prince Loki, second son of Odin,” the man said, as though it was some great revelation.

“Well done,” Loki said shortly. “Do you want a medal? I’m here to help, if you don’t want it, fine, but don’t you dare threaten my healers, or I will come after you with the full force of the law.”

“See? I knew you hated us,” the man said.

Loki gritted his teeth. “You. Threatened. My. Healers.” He said slowly. “That. Is. Wrong. That. Is. Illegal. Not just for you, but for anyone, anyone at all. I won’t have you arrested because I hate you, I’ll have you arrested for doing the wrong thing.”

“You won’t,” the man said smugly. “You’d have to expose your whole operation if you did.”

Loki crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine,” he said.

The man frowned. “What?”

“I said fine. I’ll call the royal guards and they can investigate this whole place. I’ll do it now.”

“You’re a Prince, they won’t find anything,” the man said.

“Funny, a second ago you were certain that they would,” Loki said. “Your men will leave now, if they refuse I will make them leave.”

The men all tensed, readying themselves for a fight.

“You think you can just order us about? You may have stamped your foot when you were that old King’s whore but we in The Slums aren’t here to do your bidding,” the man sneered.

The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. Loki took a slow, deep breath.

“You are in *my* property,” he said in a steady voice. “You are so ignorant that it’s painful to witness. You are so determined to destroy me that you will take your own people down with you. You are a terrible person, and I’m done trying to reason with you.”

He flicked his wrist and opened a portal behind the men. A quick push of seidr and they fell through, right into the gaol cells of the local guardhouse.

Loki walked towards the man who lay alone in the bed.

“Don’t you threaten my healers again,” he said dangerously. “The only reason you go around as you do is because you are *so sure* that you are the most powerful person here. But you aren’t. Someone tried to take you out and it wasn’t me. Someone else thinks that this place is better off without you. Good luck finding out who.”

“You’re just like him,” the man said. “He opened portals all the time too, he paid us to smuggle his weapons all over the place, to all the realms, and then when he disappeared all that was left was a trail of evidence that put *my brother* in jail.”

Loki blinked. “*Formalen* was here? He used this place as a base?”

“I knew you knew him! You are in league! You-“

“He’s dead, and I’m the reason,” Loki said bluntly. 

“So you took over his operation!” the man claimed triumphantly. 

Loki growled and resisted the urge to slam his fist into the man’s face. “I would *never* have anything to do with that worm,” he said. “I’m here to help, and you know what? Whatever happened to you, you deserved it. You should have reported him when you found out what he was doing, instead you lot took his money and did his dirty work, don’t start crying just because your brother got caught. Now, we’ll heal you because that’s what we do, but I *am* calling the guards and you will not be allowed any visitors. You don’t deserve them and the other people here need to be cared for without fear.”

Loki concentrated and raised a barrier around the man’s bed. “You can stay there until I find a guard,” he said and walked out without looking back.

He met Thor coming the other way. Thor took one look at him and said: “What happened?”

Loki told him. He repeated every word as best he could before ending with: “I need to fetch a guard and then go down to the guardhouse and explain what those men are doing there.”

Thor was smiling.

“What?” Loki asked him, confused by his expression.

“Nothing,” Thor said, but he was still smiling.

Loki called in a guard and carefully lowered the barrier so that the man could receive treatment, then he headed down to the guardhouse and spoke at length to the man there. The men were held pending an investigation. Finally, he had time to ride home with Thor at his side.

“It’s ruined the day,” Loki said in an annoyed tone.

Thor was still smiling.

“What?” Loki asked. “Tell me.”

“You’re not upset,” Thor said.

“I am upset!” Loki protested. “I’m bloody furious! I want those men gone but they still command a lot of respect among the people of the area, and I can’t be seen to get rid of them or everything I’ve worked for will fall in a heap!”

“I mean, you’re not shaking, or crying, or pale,” Thor said. “From what you told me, that man called you the whore of the King and you aren’t upset by that. I remember when you first came home, Loki, I remember what happened when Sif made that blunder. But today it happened again, maliciously this time, and all you are talking about is how angry you are that they’re threatening others.”

Loki stared ahead of himself blankly for a few minutes as he processed what Thor had said.

“Well,” he said after a few minutes, “that’s because there’re more important things to be concerned with.”

Thor grinned beside him.

“Don’t worry about those men,” he said. “You do what you have to do to keep your people safe, and the people of The Catchment will take care of the rest. More and more of them know that what you’re doing is for their benefit.”

“I hope you’re right,” Loki said. “But we’ll have to wait and see. I don’t intend to give up though. Those men have a Hel of a fight ahead of them, because I’m not going anywhere.”

Later that night, after Thor had gone home, Loki pulled out his list and stared at it for some time.

Then, very deliberately, he picked up a pen and crossed off number 3: Not losing control over myself when someone makes reference to my time with the King.

Well he hadn’t. Thor had even had to point it out to him, although he still didn’t know about the list, he was just pleased to see Loki show progress.

Loki put the list away and got ready for bed. He was just settling down to sleep when he suddenly rose, turned on the light and pulled the list out again.

With a smile of triumph, he put a firm stroke through number 1: Return to Asgard Permanently.

He’d said it himself to Thor today, hadn’t he? 

He wasn’t going anywhere.

 

****

The hospital and school kept Loki so busy that he was genuinely surprised when the tenth anniversary appeared on the horizon, and the people who worked and attended school at the Centre asked him if they could celebrate.

And so now here he was, celebrating the tenth anniversary of the Centre opening and the ninth anniversary of the school. There were speeches planned, and a play put on by the students, followed by a certificate ceremony for those who attended ending with cake.

The ration system was still in place, although some things had been removed as Vanaheim once again began to export large quantities to the other realms. Flour was freely available now, but eggs were not. The schools kept chickens, and Loki had five of his own in his yard at home, and combined they had supplied all the eggs used in the cake. He’d been saving them in his fridge for weeks.

Thor was here, in disguise, as he didn’t want his presence to overshadow Loki’s triumph. In the years since Loki had returned to Asgard the two of them had grown ever closer, regaining what was lost as they moved from comrades in arms, to friends, to best friends and confidants. 

Of course, those observing the two would also say that the very air sparked between them when they spoke, but becoming more than what they were was a topic they still danced around. Thor never pushed; he’d accepted Loki’s word that Loki did not wish to take a lover, although he had made no attempt to move on or find someone of his own.

There were times, especially recently, when Loki found himself wondering whether Thor’s lips felt as good as he remembered.

A hush took over the room in response to the head healer and head teacher stepping forwards. They were not the best at their profession, as the very best had not been willing to take a job in such a poverty stricken area, but they were competent at their jobs and enthusiastic about helping the area and its people rise in the world, which made up for a lot. Now they took turns in speaking about the Centre and its triumphs over the last two years.

They reached the end of their speech to a round of cheering, before asking everyone to please enjoy the play.

The students had written it themselves, and it told the story of a young man and woman who defied the odds and saved their town from destruction by a giant dragon. Loki enjoyed it, noting with interest that the jokes especially were a combination of local bawdiness and educated wit.

As the play came to a close, the head teacher, Lefarnen, took the stage again and spoke: “I ask you now to listen to a few words from our patron, His Grace, Loki, Prince of Asgard.”

Loki stepped forwards and smiled at the crowd. He acknowledged a few people with a nod or a slight wave before calmly beginning his speech.

“No one knows, when a person is born, what their strengths will turn out to be,” he said. “Parents and guardians hope for health, hope for wisdom, hope for strength or happiness. In areas like The Catchment, The Swoop, Claw’s Reach and Procure (Loki never used the term ‘The Slums’ when speaking to the residents of them), reaching your full potential is difficult, this cannot be denied. If the odds are stacked against you from the start it is very hard to survive, to strive, and to thrive. This Centre was founded on the idea that all people deserve the chance to do just that. Today, I see before me people who have taken a chance, people who will go on to be the best that they can, people who *will* survive, who *will* strive, and who *will* thrive. All this Centre has done is tip the odds a little bit in your favour, but it is you who have taken this chance and made it your own, it is you who have chosen to seize your opportunity, and so on this day I congratulate you all. You have taken this chance, and I look forward to seeing what you do with it.”

Then Loki reached forwards, picked up the knife, and cut the cake. There was a loud cheer that shook the windows as the people celebrated.

Loki looked out over the top of the crowd and found Thor standing in the shadows. Their eyes met and, as Thor gave him a grin, Loki thought about whether or not he was ready to seize the opportunity before *him*.

The answer was already in his mind before he’d even finished the thought.

Yes. He was ready to take the next step with Thor.

But first he needed to tell Thor about the list.


	82. Eighty One Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fears and Confessions

There was a world of difference between deciding to do something and actually doing it. There were many factors to consider, many hurdles to navigate, many details to work out.

Which explained why Loki procrastinated for almost a month before he finally pulled together the courage to tell Thor about the list.

First he wrote to his grandparents to tell them what he’d decided and to ask for their advice. Then, having received a letter full of support and encouragement, he wrote to Haewkyr for his opinion.

Haewkyr did not write back, which puzzled Loki a little, but he assumed that Haewkyr must be very busy, or travelling across Vanaheim, as he sometimes did to visit Smairken’s father in the west. Still, given that this was a very important decision that Loki was making, he was a little hurt not to hear back right away.

Nevertheless, he went over his plans for telling Thor. He would tell him over dinner one night. No, he’d invite him on a ride and tell him then. No, they’d go to the training yards and after a long day of trying to kill each other *then* Loki would tell him.

A week passed, and Loki was still dithering when he heard a knock on the door. He frowned in confusion as he heard Hoeldyr open it and the murmur of voices, as he wasn’t expecting any visitors. He listened to the distinctive sounds of people being ushered to his living room before Hoeldyr came up the stairs and knocked on his study door.

“You have visitors, your Grace,” he said. “Sir Haewkyr Owelyrson and Sir Smairken Kinndyrson from Vanaheim are here.”

Loki practically flew down the stairs.

“You could have told me you were coming!” he scolded, flying into the room. “I’d have had the guest room made up for you.”

“Good to see you too,” Haewkyr said, rising from his chair and grinning as he wrapped his arms around Loki and gave him a squeeze.

Smairken rose from his seat and gave Loki a polite bow, which Loki returned while Haewkyr rolled his eyes.

“You look well, your Grace,” Smairken said.

“As do you, Sir Smairken,” Loki said with equal civility.

“You know he laughs now?” Haewkyr interjected, wrapping an arm around Smairken’s shoulders. “Sounds like a parrot.”

Smairken shoved him away, but he was fighting to keep the grin from his face.

“Why do I put up with you?” he asked.

“Because I’m lovable,” Haewkyr said, giving his beloved a sappy smile.

Loki and Smairken made the same disgusted face.

“We are here to catch up; it’s been ten years since we’ve spoken in person, that’s too long, Loki, far too long. So we took some time off and are staying in Asgard for a month,” Haewkyr said. “We’ll be travelling around for a bit of the time, but we should be able to squeeze you in for a dinner here and there.”

“I’m so grateful to you for making the time,” Loki said dryly. “Would you like a drink?”

“Yes please, we’ve had such a journey,” Haewkyr said dramatically, making Loki grin.

“It wasn’t pleasant,” Smairken commented, “until we met the bandits; that was fun.”

“My little crow here turned them into turnips,” Haewkyr said.

“Why turnips?” Loki asked.

“Why not?” Smairken answered. “Besides, we were in a turnip field; I wanted them to blend in.”

“I had to carry them to the nearest gaol,” Haewkyr said. “At one point I almost mixed them up with our actual supplies, although Smairken knew which ones they were.”

“They were the only turnips that trembled when I threatened to make vegetable soup,” Smairken said dryly.

“Have you two taken lodgings yet?” Loki asked as the wine arrived. It was not the finest quality, that wine still remained in Vanaheim, but it wasn’t horrible either.

“Not yet, I saw a couple of likely looking taverns on the ride over here,” Haewkyr said.

“You can stay with me,” Loki said.

“We would want to put you out,” Haewkyr said. “Especially since you’re courting,” he added with a wink.

Loki looked away. “Uh, I haven’t actually told him yet,” he admitted.

“Why not?” Haewkyr exclaimed. “It’s destiny, Loki, every man and his horse can see that you two are meant to be, what’s holding you back?”

“Nerves,” Smairken said bluntly. “Give the man a rest, Haewkyr, it’s a big thing to admit to someone that you want more than you have.”

Loki was surprised by the sudden support, but then he realised that Smairken was speaking from experience. The prickly, sarcastic, acidic, smug, man with the permanently sour expression must have struggled to admit that actually, yes, he *did* like the boisterous, loud, over exuberant puppy that was Haewkyr.

“I’ll tell him soon,” Loki said. “I was just getting my nerve up, actually.”

“Have we spoilt it?” Haewkyr asked, immediately concerned.

“No! Of course not, no,” Loki said at once. “I’ll be telling him that I’ve changed my mind very soon. I *want* to, I do, and I will. I just need a little more time.”

“I suggest a picnic,” Haewkyr said. “Picnics are very good for talking about your feelings.”

Loki laughed. “I’ll bear that in mind,” he said. “Now where are your bags? I’ll ask Hoeldyr to take them up to the spare bedroom and to make it ready for you.”

“Our packs are still on the horses,” Smairken said. “We don’t have to stay with you, your Grace, we can stay at a tavern.”

“It’s Loki,” Loki said, “and I want you to.”

Smairken looked surprised, but then he and Loki had never really gotten along. They had tolerated each other, certainly, but since the ‘incident’ involving Smairken’s mother trying to murder Loki (and Smairken’s confession that he’d like the entre royal family of Vanaheim to die) they had not exactly been close.

But Frigga was the new mistress of Lord Kinndyr’s estates in all but name, and even that was likely to change soon if what Mierthyr had told Smairken at his last visit was true. It was probably for the best that Smairken and Loki tried to get along.

“We’d be delighted,” Haewkyr said, making the decision for both of them. Smairken inclined his head in agreement. “We can help you confess your love to Thor!” Haewkyr added with glee. 

Smairken rolled his eyes, finishing just in time to see that Loki had done the same thing.

****

Thor dropped in that afternoon, which wasn’t totally unexpected, as he did so more often than he didn’t these days. He greeted Haewkyr and Smairken warmly, before shooting Loki a smile.

“Not tempted to go back to Vanaheim are you?” he joked.

“No,” Loki said calmly. “I like it here. Although I was thinking of visiting, I haven’t seen our grandparents in too long, and Mother, and my friends, and the Tower,” he stopped when he saw the faint look of panic in Thor’s eyes. “Would you like to come?” He added. “We can take a few weeks away together, I can show you the Falls of the Spritefolk.”

“That’s more than a few weeks’ worth of journey,” Smairken pointed out.

“Not if I get permission from King Dorgen to use a portal,” Loki said, “or Thor can fly us, that’s faster than a horse, although damn chilly at times.”

Thor leaned back in his chair, crisis apparently averted. “I’d love to see it, Loki’s told me all about the Falls, and the cavern beneath them,” he said.

“You should go this spring,” Haewkyr suggested, “Musleen and Daenceia are going then, she loved it so much the first time that she jumped at the chance to go again when Musleen suggested it.”

“When is ‘this spring’?” Loki asked. “The seasons are on a different schedule here and I’ve lost track.”

“About eight months away,” Haewkyr said. “I can write and let you know.”

Loki and Thor shared a look.

“I’d appreciate it,” Loki said with a smile. 

****

“Tell him,” Haewkyr murmured in Loki’s ear later that day as they headed into the dining room for dinner.

“I will, stop nagging,” Loki hissed back.

“Do it tonight, I’ll take Smairken out for a nice long walk, you two can get cuddly for hours,” Haewkyr added, still in a low voice.

“What are you two plotting?” Thor asked suddenly, making them both jump guiltily.

“Nothing sinister,” Loki said.

“Oh, it’s sinister,” Haewkyr contradicted calmly, giving Thor a wink. “But don’t worry, we won’t get caught.”

“We are not planning a crime,” Loki said flatly.

“Good,” Smairken said. “Because I am not staying in Asgard while this one goes to prison.”

“Why not? Don’t you love me?” Haewkyr asked plaintively.

“I’ll write,” Smairken said, settling down at the table.

“What are your plans for tomorrow?” Thor asked him, changing the subject.

“I’d like to ride out to the old watchtower on the edge of the main city,” Smairken said. “It’s got old seidr through the walls which intrigue me.”

“And *I* will be doing nothing illegal,” Haewkyr said. “Chatting with the birds, probably, or minding my own business.”

“You’ve never minded your own business in your life,” Loki snorted. “But the watchtower is interesting, I took some notes on it a few years ago. They’re up in my study if you wanted to have a look.”

Smairken nodded. “I would, thank you, I’ve read that the base spells were arranged differently to the norm, and that it leant the watchtower its distinctive look.”

“It did, the illusion spells caused an odd shifting in the light. I don’t think it was intentional, but after it was completed the spell couldn’t be changed,” Loki said.

Haewkyr leaned over to Thor while the two mages chatted together and said quietly. “Does your one get like this every time one of his seidr friends comes to visit?”

Thor nodded. “Sometimes it’s even worse; they disappear up to the study and leave me in the living room on my own.”

“Tell me about it,” Haewkyr said, wisely not commenting on the fact that Thor hadn’t flinched at the use of the words ‘your one’.

Dinner was entertaining and pleasant, and it was quite late in the evening when Thor said his goodbyes and left.

“How often does he drop by?” Haewkyr asked innocently as they settled back into the living room.

“Almost every day,” Loki admitted.

“Let him court you, Loks, if you love him, then it’s time, because he damn well loves you, any fool can see that” Haewkyr said

“I will,” Loki said. “I’ll do it soon.”

“How soon?”

Loki took a deep breath. “Tomorrow, while you’re at the watchtower, he’s coming over in the morning; I’ll invite him on a picnic.”

Haewkyr grinned. “We’ll be gone all day!” he promised cheerfully.

****

Loki waited nervously downstairs as the clock chimed the hour. Thor was expected any minute and Loki was a bundle of nerves. Haewkyr and Smairken had left half an hour before to visit the watchtower, and Corokat had packed a massive basket of food for a picnic.

Loki made a distressed kind of noise under his breath as he turned and paced across the room for the fiftieth time. His hands were shaking slightly.

This was stupid. *He* was stupid. He *wanted* this, how could he be so nervous about something he wanted?

Because there would be no going back. No ‘I made a mistake’. Once he told Thor that he wanted a relationship, they would either be together forever, or it would end in disaster.

Loki was terrified that it would end. That somehow, after all this time, after all they had been through, it *wouldn’t work out*.

What would he do if that happened? How could he move forwards from that? What if-

The knock made him jump a clear foot off the floor. Loki forced himself to take a deep breath and stand still while Hoeldyr went to open it.

Thor walked in and shot Loki a grin that warmed the whole room. Something inside Loki melted a little and he returned the grin with a weak smile of his own.

Thor’s grin froze just a little, but he stepped forward and said in a cheerful voice. “What would you like to do today?”

“I’ve packed us a picnic,” Loki said, trying to keep his voice from sounding nervous. He was only partially successful. “I’ve made sure I’m not needed anywhere, it’ll just be you and me.”

Thor grinned at him. “So where shall we go?” he asked.

“The Lake,” Loki said at once. “Let’s go to the Lake.”

They hadn’t been to the lake for over a century, not since Loki came home the first time for less than four days. He’d destroyed a good chunk of the edge with a magical outburst that had ended with him sobbing in Thor’s arms.

The lake had not been mentioned since.

Thor smiled uncertainly. “All right,” he said. “Shall we leave now?”

Loki nodded, trying and failing to hide his nervousness. “Yes,” he said. “Let’s go.”

****

They rode in silence.

Loki was beyond nervous. This was *Thor*, this was what he wanted, this was the next step, which he was sure he was ready for… but the fear was still within him. What if he couldn’t handle the physical side of love? He… wanted Thor, he did, but what if things didn’t go well?

Thor was beyond nervous. Loki was… different. His friends from Vanaheim had arrived and suddenly Loki was distant, and he was clearly hiding something. Thor had a creeping suspicion that Loki wanted to move back to Vanaheim.

They reached the lake after an hour and a half. Lightning snorted in annoyance as Loki swung down, they had not ridden anywhere near as fast as the horse would have liked.

“Go and run then,” Loki said. “Just don’t get into any trouble that I have to pay for.”

Lightning took off with a snort.

Thor chuckled despite himself and tied his own horse up to a nearby tree. “I wish I had one like him,” he said.

“I’m thinking of breeding him,” Loki said. “It’s time, he’d old enough, and if his foals take after him then you can have the finest for your mount.”

To his surprise, Thor did not look all that pleased. Although he *said*: “that would be wonderful.”

There was a pause before Thor continued. “Um, what kind of mare would you breed him with? Another Vanir horse?”

“Probably,” Loki said, unpacking the basket and so missing the faint look of panic in Thor’s eyes. “I’ll have to find one first,” he added.

“Yes,” Thor said dully, “you will.”

Loki spread a blanket on the ground. He was stalling, he knew he was, but it was a big revelation and he was nervous.

‘This is Thor,’ he reminded himself. ‘Everything will be all right.’

“I have something to tell you,” Loki said, pulling himself up straight and looking Thor in the eye.

Thor immediately looked wary. “Oh?” he said with fake nonchalance.

Loki’s hands were shaking. “I… I came to a decision, and I need to tell you about it.”

Thor stood and faced him squarely. Anyone watching would have thought the two were about to fight from the way they were sizing each other up.

“Before coming back to Asgard I made myself a promise,” Loki began, nervously sticking his hand into his pocket, where the list was waiting, folded. “I wanted to accomplish certain things, I… I made a list.”

Thor winced as Loki pulled out the paper. “And now you have done so you wish to leave,” he said sadly.

“What?! No!!” Loki exclaimed. “That’s not what I want at all!”

“It’s not?” Thor asked. “You seemed so distant today; I thought you were going to tell me that you had decided to return to Vanaheim after all!”

“No!” Loki cried. “No, no, Thor, look! I made a list because I wanted to stay in Asgard, and, and I wanted… I wanted to be your queen.”

The last few words were whispered, but they seemed as though they were shouted compared to the silence that followed.

“You… you want… with me?” Thor stuttered. 

Loki held the list out with a trembling hand. “I wanted to achieve some of the list before I told you,” he said. “Because if I couldn’t do it… I didn’t want to hurt you by getting your hopes up, but I’ve done it, I mean… the ones I can do alone, so far… I’m not making a lot of sense.”

Thor took the list and read through it. His eyebrow twitched when he read over number 5.

“You believe that when you have achieved these things then you will be ready to marry me?” he asked, looking up.

“Yes,” Loki said.

“And you have achieved so far…?” Thor asked.

Numbers one, two and three for sure, I guess four as well, I mean, I didn’t yell at Odin the one time we spoke. It was number one that was holding me back. I wanted to be sure that I could stay,” Loki said.

Thor read the list again.  
 _  
1\. Return to Asgard permanently.  
2\. Go out with friends in a normal setting like a tavern.  
3\. Not losing control over myself when someone makes reference to my time with the King.  
4\. Talking to Odin civilly, but frankly.  
5\. Have sex with Thor.  
6\. Conquering my lingering fears of the Ink.  
7\. Joining the advisory councils and working with Odin without losing control over myself.  
_  
“You’re not going back to Vanaheim?” he clarified.

Loki felt a smile tug at his face. “Not forever, maybe for a visit, and I *did* say I wanted you to come,” he said.

“And the mare for Lightning?” Thor added.

Loki bit his lip in an effort not to chuckle. “Will be a recommendation from Haewkyr, I’ve no doubt,” he said.

“So,” Thor said in as casual a tone as he could achieve. “Number five?”

Loki felt a rare blush come into his cheeks. “You will need an heir, I need to know that I can… um…”

“Are you telling me about the list now because it’s the next one in line?” Thor asked.

Loki shrugged. “I guess so,” I mean, I didn’t write them to do in order, but, well, it’s time. I love you, I’ve always loved you, and I… I *want* you. I’m scared, but I’d rather be scared with you than be lonely without you.”

“Why did you pick the lake? I thought you'd never want to come here again after the last time.” Thor asked suddenly.

“This is where you kissed me for the first time,” Loki said. “This is where you held me at my worst. For better or worse… for better *and* worse, this is our place. I wanted to tell you here.”

“Can I kiss you?” Thor asked, “because I really want to kiss you.”

Loki stepped forwards and raised himself up just far enough to brush his lips across Thor’s. “Yes,” he whispered. “Yes, Thor, you can kiss me.”


	83. Eighty Two Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confusion, Confidence and Fear

They spent the day together, and it was a good day. Lazily lying by the lake, eating the food at no set time, quietly talking, perhaps more than they ever had since they were children.

Thor tried and failed to keep a dopey grin from his face; it was a look that made Loki smile every time he saw it.

That was *his* grin, *he* did that. *He* put that ridiculous look on Thor’s face.

He liked it.

After a few hours they went for a walk around to the boathouse on the far side of the lake and rented a boat. Loki rowed to the centre of the lake, looking from side to side and back and forth while Thor looked on, bemused.

“What are you looking for?” he asked at last.

“The spot,” Loki said. “The spot we were on when you kissed me for the first time, which incidentally, is where you also proposed, well, sort of proposed. You made it clear that you wanted to marry me one day when we were both of age, anyway.”

“I doubt you’re going to find the exact spot,” Thor said.

“Right here,” Loki said promptly, angling the oars and bring the boat to as close to a stop as could be. 

“How do you know?” Thor asked, looking around for anything that might be a landmark.

“You dived in after my knife,” Loki said patiently. “You stayed down far too long and worried me unduly, I was most distressed. Naturally I remember everything from that terrible moment.”

Thor’s lips twitched. “You’re teasing me,” he said.

“A little,” Loki admitted with a smile. “I just wanted to find the approximate spot of the happiest moment of my life.”

“Your life so far,” Thor said. “I am determined to bring you happiness, Loki; I will dedicate my life to it.”

Loki smiled even as he rolled his eyes. “You’re a romantic sop,” he said. 

Thor shrugged, unconcerned by the description.

“Anyway,” Loki added, “I wanted to tell you something.”

“And what is that?” Thor asked.

“After we kissed, you said you wanted to marry me as soon as I was of age. You didn’t have a ring, because you are a spontaneous fool who never plans ahead-“

“A trait I hope you like about me, because I can’t see it changing,” Thor interjected.

“-so I thought this would be a good place to tell you about the ring you *did* give me,” Loki said, pulling the Vanir ring from his finger and holding it delicately between them. “Do you have any idea what the writing on this ring means?” he asked.

Thor shook his head. “I only know that the moment I saw it I thought it should belong to you,” he said.

Loki smiled. “You’ve been training to be king for a few centuries now,” he said. “What is the motto of the Kings of Vanaheim?”

Thor frowned in remembrance. “Time, uh, wait. The people rule the farms, no, the land. The people rule the land, the King rules the people and time rules us all,” he recited, looking slightly proud.

Loki smiled and twisted the ring so that the light glanced off the green stone at its heart. “Time does not rule my heart,” he said quietly. “This ring is a love token, from a very long time ago, and the words inscribed upon it are: Time does not rule my heart.”

Thor smiled. “I wish I could say that it was planned,” he said. “But I truly just thought it ought to belong to you.”

“Musleen said the Norns must have wanted me to have it,” Loki said, slipping it back onto his finger.

Thor’s expression changed. “They told me that you would survive, but that it was up to me to ensure that you lived,” he said. “I thought…I thought when you left Asgard that I had failed, but then you came back, and you carried that ring through all your travels… do you truly think that they meant it for you to have?”

Loki nodded slowly. “I do,” he said. “I think that the Norns are not so terrible sometimes, great and powerful, yes, but not so terrible.”

“I love you,” Thor said suddenly. “I love you, Loki.”

“I love you too, Thor,” Loki said softly, “and I want you to know that time does not rule my heart either. I tried to forget you, I tried to let you go so that you would be free to marry another, I really, honestly, tried, but I couldn’t do it. So I am forced to accept the truth, I love you, I want to be with you and I am determined to make it happen. Haewkyr and Smairken leave to travel around Asgard in another week, will you stay the night with me once they are gone?”

Thor almost fell overboard in his sudden surprise. 

“Uh, wha, ahem, well, um, yes,” he spluttered. “If you want to,” he added quickly.

Loki nodded with a confidence he didn’t *completely* feel. “I do,” he said. “It’s time we got on with things.”

Thor’s face flushed red. “You don’t think we’re moving a little fast?” he said. “Not that I don’t… you know, want to, I do, but I want you to be ready.”

“I’m ready,” Loki lied.

He wasn’t completely sure, but now that he’d told Thor about the list it seemed silly to wait. They were in love; they knew what they had to do, it was better to find out sooner rather than later whether or not Loki could handle it.

“You chose this spot to tell me about the ring?” Thor said with a slightly mischievous smile as he recovered from his surprise. “I think perhaps it is you who is the romantic sop.”

Loki leaned forwards with a hard glint in his eye. “Tell no one,” he said. “Or I’ll set Lightning on you.”

****

They rode back together in happy silence, a completely different kind of silence to the one they set out in. Haewkyr and Smairken had returned by the time they got back and were in the living room when they walked in.

Haewkyr immediately turned a questioning look onto Loki, earning himself a sharp dig to the ribs by Smairken.

“How are you two? How was your day?” Haewkyr asked instead, still eyeing Loki carefully.

Loki couldn’t help himself; he broke out into a grin.

“We had a nice time by the lake,” he said.

“Yes,” Thor added. “We had a lovely picnic.”

Thor excused himself to visit the toilet. The moment he was out of sight Haewkyr leaned forwards with his hands clasped and an eager grin on his face.

“You did it, didn’t you, you told him?” he asked, almost falling from his chair in excitement.

Loki grinned again. “We’re officially courting,” he said.

Haewkyr jumped up, punched the air and wrapped Loki up in a massive hug. “Yes!” he exclaimed.

“Shhh!” Loki said, fighting laughter. “I don’t want him to know that half my household knew what I was going to tell him before he did!”

“All your household, your Grace,” Corokat interjected from behind him, depositing a tray of mead down on the little table. “But rest assured, Hoeldyr and I have not breathed a word to any others.”

Loki rolled his eyes, but the grin didn’t leave his face. “Very well then, *all* my household,” he corrected with good humour.

Haewkyr was still grinning a minute later when Thor returned. He didn’t even try to hide his glee.

Thor saw the look on his face and stopped short.

“I told them,” Loki deadpanned. “I hope you don’t mind, I was quite excited and it just slipped out.”

“Yes, he was most excited, he could barely restrain himself,” Smairken added, equally deadpan.

Thor’s forehead crinkled slightly as he tried to work out what had really happened, but then he gave a kind of mini-shrug as he decided he didn’t care enough to chase it up.

“We’ll have to tell quite a few people soon,” he said. “The Warriors Four, at least, and our grandparents.”

“And Mother,” Loki said, “I’ll have to write right away.”

“She’ll want to visit,” Thor said. “She’ll want *us* to visit.”

“Wonderful, the family home will be filled with Aesir royalty,” Smairken said snarkily, although they could tell it was more from habit than any actual resentment. 

“We’ll meet her at our Grandparents’ place,” Loki said. “I haven’t visited in ten years, and Thor hasn’t been for even longer.”

“You should come for a long holiday, a few months,” Haewkyr suggested. “See Grandfather and Grandmother, visit the Falls, take some time together. I’m sure you can arrange things here so that you can go.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Loki said, turning to look at Thor. “We can go away together, just the two of us.”

Thor’s delight could not have been more obvious if he’d written it on a sign.

“I’d like that,” he said.

“Oh great,” Smairken interjected. “Googly eyes.”

“Be quiet, you,” Haewkyr said with a laugh. “Googly eyes are the hallmark of a good relationship.”

“I will never look at you like that,” Smairken said.

“Oh darling,” Haewkyr said, leaning in close so that he could whisper, “you already have.”

****

The week with Haewkyr and Smairken was one of the best and worst of Loki’s life. Every day that passed was a day spent with Thor, and a night spent wondering and worrying whether things could truly be alright.

‘What if?’ became Loki’s habitual thought. What if he couldn’t manage to have sex with Thor? What if he *did* and he hated it? What if he liked it, but felt different afterwards? What if Thor didn’t like it? What if what if what if…?

Thoughts of his time with the King came back to him. All the horrible, humiliating, painful things he’d been forced to endure. Over and over again Loki reminded himself that Thor wasn’t like that, that Thor would be gentle and kind, and considerate of Loki’s wishes.

There was also one other thing that he took comfort from, although he felt a little guilty for doing it.

There was nothing stopping him from walking away. If Thor turned out like the King, if he changed, or turned violent in any way, Loki could walk, and no one could stop him.

He didn’t want to think like that. He didn’t want Thor to know that he had had those thoughts, but still, even though losing Thor would break his heart, he had the option of ending things. Just knowing that brought him more comfort than he was prepared to admit to anyone.

The days were better, a million times better. Thor came to visit every day. They took Haewkyr and Smairken to see some of the better sights of Asgard, introduced them to the Warriors Four and tried their best to be good hosts despite spending a great deal of time being lost in their own private world.

If things could stay exactly like this, Loki thought to himself one night, then he’d be happy forever. But they couldn’t. Thor *needed* an heir. They needed to be more than they were, and Loki did not want to wait. He was afraid of what might happen, but even stronger than his fear was his desire to have a firm answer one way or another. He needed to know whether he could do this, whether he could do the one thing he swore he would never do again. 

He’d been so certain, once. 

Would it really be different if it was with someone you loved? Would it hurt? Or leave him feeling dirty and disgusting? Would Thor come with his own form of Ink?

Or would it be everything the romantic novels said it would be? Would it be how his Grandmother had described so many centuries ago? Loki had never forgotten the words Lord Eadgleyr had spoken, although he had swung wildly between refusing to believe him and desperately hoping that what he’d said was true:

_“When you love someone, and when you trust that they will never hurt you, you find yourself capable of giving more of yourself than you ever imagined. And you do enjoy it, because of the look on their face, and because of the moment when you are *theirs* and the whole realm vanishes in comparison. That is love Loki, which is something you do not have with the King. In your life beyond this one you will choose what you do and who you do it with, and I wish with all my heart that one day you will be able to give yourself freely, and without fear.”_

Could he? He loved Thor, this was something he knew, the same way he knew that the sky was blue and the snow was cold. But could he *truly* give himself up like that? 

He didn’t know, and not knowing terrified him. He wanted it over with. He wanted an answer, and maybe, just maybe, he wanted Thor.

The thought wasn’t completely unappealing, which had to be a good thing, right?

Loki threw himself into his work at night to avoid thinking about it. He also wrote to his mother, and his grandparents, and to Daenceia, Thainia and Shiarpia. Their replies came back within days. Happiness and encouragement were the main themes, although some good council from Lord Fallconyr was also present:

_”I am very pleased to hear that you two are taking the next step in your relationship, and I would like to take this opportunity, as a man who has been married for an excessively long time, to advise you regarding the outcome of your decision. Relationships are hard work. There is no getting around it. You must both be prepared to weather the storms that will inevitably arise as you move down this path together. But, Loki, I am filled with confidence that you two are both decent young men who care very much for each other, and that you will have gone into this with open hearts and minds. I am always here if you need to talk to me, and I have no doubt you two will support one another for many millennia to come._

_P.S. It’s about bloody time!_

Loki had to laugh at that. Trust Lord Fallconyr to advise both caution and recklessness in the same letter.

Of course, while they now knew that he and Thor were courting, they did not know what the two of them had planned in just a few short days. Loki had no intention of going into that level of detail with anyone, at least, not by letter. He might be tempted to spill everything had either his grandparents or Daenceia been here, but for now his private hopes, and more importantly, fears, remained with him alone.

He didn’t even share them with Thor. He *wanted* to do this, and he was a little afraid that if Thor found out how nervous he truly was then he’d insist on a delay. Loki did not want a delay; he had a feeling that it would only make things worse.

****

Haewkyr and Smairken said their goodbyes in the afternoon of their last day with Loki. They were planning to head across to the satellite cities that clung to Asgard’s edge and make their way around for a few weeks.

“I’m going to talk to every new creature I can find,” Haewkyr said confidently.

“I’m going to let him,” Smairken said. “It’ll keep him out of my hair.”

Loki grinned and gave Haewkyr a hug. “See you in two weeks,” he said. “You will drop back in before you return to Vanaheim?”

“Of course,” Haewkyr said. “We’ll have dinner, but for now…” he waggled his eyebrows suggestively, “me and my man here need to get to our camping place in time for some late night… wrestling.”

Smairken groaned and turned away, he didn’t even bother to wave as he headed down the street. Haewkyr laughed. “He’s not at all sweet, but I like him a lot,” he said, giving Loki one last hug. “Good luck with Thor, although I have faith you won’t need it.”

Loki waved him off and headed back inside the house. Inside, his nerves were beginning to make his stomach churn.

It didn’t have to be tonight, did it? There was no actual reason that they had to have sex right away.

But he wanted an answer.

But he was afraid of the answer.

Oh crap, what was he going to do?

****

Thor arrived after an hour. He had said his goodbyes to Haewkyr and Smairken the night before. Loki let him in and tried to seem normal. It didn’t help that Thor looked vaguely unwell. 

They sat in the living room in silence together for a few minutes, each one desperately trying to think of something to say.

“This is stupid,” Loki said at last. “We’re being stupid. Come here and kiss me.”

Thor chuckled then, and the tension broke. “I hope you can forgive me,” he said, leaving his chair and sliding over to settle next to Loki. “You went from telling me we can be together to, um, nominating a night within the hour. I’ve been waiting all week for today, and I don’t really know what to say or do right now.”

Loki leaned up and pressed their lips together. Yes, *this* felt exactly right.

“Me either, I’m sort of hoping we’ll work it out together,” he said. 

Thor gave him a nervous-looking smile. “We don’t have to rush things if you don’t want to,” he said. “I –“

“I do want to,” Loki said. 

He wasn’t entirely lying either. Having Thor in front of him was soothing and exacerbating his nerves in equal measure.

“It’s just that I want –“ Thor began.

“Let’s do it now,” Loki said suddenly.

“What?!”

“Right now. There’s no law that says we have to wait until tonight. Let’s do it right now,” Loki said.

Thor looked nonplussed. “Now?” he repeated. “I mean, are you sure?”

“Yes,” Loki said, standing and grabbing Thor’s hand. “Let’s just go upstairs and see how things go, we can take all afternoon if we need to.”

He was nervous, oh so nervous. His hands were shaking, but he was determined. This was Thor, this was *happiness*, if only he could let it happen.

Thor followed him upstairs, stumbling a little on the landing as Loki pulled the door to his bedroom open and led the way inside.

“Loki, there’s no need to rush –“ Thor said as he stepped inside and Loki closed and locked the door behind him. 

But now that there were here Loki didn’t feel rushed, he felt excited, and, despite the nerves, he felt oddly strong, as though this was a challenge that he was ready to face, and had been ready to face for some time, he’d just never realised it before.

“I’m ready,” he said, and his voice was steady. 

He was, he was truly ready. He was nervous, but sure of himself at the same time, and he was going to take this leap forward. No more waiting, he was ready, it was time. Whatever he did with Thor, it wouldn’t be like it had been with the King. Thor wouldn’t hurt him, or ask him to do things he didn’t like. Loki trusted him completely, and it was time, past time, that he showed it.

“There’s something you need to know though,” Thor said as Loki turned to face him. Thor had gone pale under his golden tan, and to Loki’s surprise he was trembling slightly.

“What is it?” Loki asked, certain that in this moment with Thor that he could handle anything, anything at all.

“I’ve never done this before,” Thor blurted out.

Oh.

Except that.


	84. Eighty Three Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Together

“You… you’ve never? Oh,” Loki said, taken aback.

Thor frowned slightly. “I didn’t suddenly fall in love with you that day at the lake, Loki, I’d been holding onto my feelings for decades, waiting for the right time for us, and then, well… things didn’t work out,” he finished awkwardly.

“No,” Loki said, sitting down on the side of the bed. “Things did not work out the way either of us had hoped.”

He glanced up at Thor with a look of concern. “You do know what you are supposed to do, right?” he asked.

Thor look offended. “Of course I do! I read the biology books as a child; I spoke to Fandral as an adolescent! I’m not *completely* ignorant!”

Loki couldn’t help himself. He laughed.

Thor looked at him, shocked by his reaction. He opened his mouth to protest but Loki held up a hand to stop him.

“I’m sorry!” he gasped through his laughter. “Truly, Thor, I’m so sorry to laugh, I’m not laughing at you I swear. I’m laughing at this whole situation! You have had no experience and I have had more than I ever wished to, I just… it never occurred to me… that you might not… I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Please don’t look so put out!”

Thor was pouting, his shoulders were hunched. He looked confused and alarmed at the same time. Loki thought it was adorable, which was not a term often used to describe the powerful crown prince of Asgard.

Loki held a hand out to draw Thor in towards him as he got himself under control.

“We make a fine pair, don’t we?” he said as Thor sat down next to him on the side of the bed. “I’m sorry that I never considered you might have concerns of your own.”

Thor shook his head. “It’s not that I don’t want to,” he said. “I… uh… well I do, very much so, but I don’t want to hurt you by doing the wrong thing, I never want to hurt you, Loki.”

Loki took Thor’s hand and held it tightly. “You won’t,” he said. 

“You don’t know that,” Thor said with a touch of sadness.

“Yes I do,” Loki said. “I’ve thought about this over and over for so long. I was certain that I could never be with anyone, then I wondered if I might be able to handle a kiss or two, now I *know* that I can be with you.”

“How can you be so sure that this will work?” Thor asked.

Loki looked up into his blue eyes. “I trust you,” he said, so softly that, close to him as Thor was, he still wondered if he’d heard it.

“You trust me?” Thor confirmed.

“I trust that, if you do something I don’t like, I’ll say so and you will stop. I’m not afraid of sex, I thought I was, but I’m not. Sex doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t leave a mark on my skin or leave me bleeding… not if it’s done right-“

Thor growled under his breath.

“-I’m afraid of not being listened to. I’m afraid of not being allowed to stop. I know you won’t do that. We’ll be alright, just keep your ears open and stop if I ask. I trust that you will do that, because I trust *you*,” Loki finished, and then he frowned to himself. “Maybe I’m not saying it right,” he muttered, only to catch the grin on Thor’s face.

“I understand,” he said. “And know this, I would rather die than hurt you, I will *always* listen to you. I will always respect your right to tell me to stop.” He leaned down until his lips just brushed Loki’s ear. “This I swear once, this I swear twice, this I swear thrice.”

Loki leaned up and kissed him. It was gentle and soft, no different to the other times they had kissed in the past week, but after a moment it deepened, and became more passionate.

Thor stayed still, allowing the kiss but not pushing forwards, until Loki pulled back and rolled his eyes.

“One thing you have to learn about real sex,” he said in a *slightly* too light-hearted tone, “is that it takes more than one person to make it work.”

His heart was hammering; despite his brave words he was beyond nervous. He knew Thor would stop if he asked, but he didn’t want to ask. 

What if he had to? What he couldn’t go through with it?

Only one way to find out.

Loki leaned up and kissed him again, gently catching Thor’s lip between his teeth and giving it a tug.

Thor responded with a careful pressure, uncertainty present in his every movement. Loki did his best to ignore it, although it was hard to relax and try and enjoy himself with a partner so rigid.

After a minute Loki decided to take the initiative. He pulled back, put both hands on Thor’s shoulders, and climbed into his lap.

“Kiss me the way you did at the lake,” he said. “Kiss me in the way that almost tumbled us both out of the boat. Kiss me like it’s the first time all over again.”

Thor hesitated for just a second, before bringing his arms up and pulling Loki in for a passionate kiss.

For a second Loki felt a flutter of panic, but he forced himself to relax. It was Thor. Thor loved him. Loki had asked for this, and besides, Thor would stop if he said anything.

Loki was *safe* here.

He pressed back against Thor hard, deepening the kiss as he pushed Thor back against the bed and lay on top of him.

There was definitely a clear difference between this and what he’d done before, Loki thought as they lay there together, just kissing, taking their time as the early afternoon sun streamed through the windows. Everything about this felt different, from the tingling in his chest and stomach, to the effect it was having on Thor – and him – Loki realised, he was hardening, and not because of persistent and unwanted touching. He hadn’t been touched there yet, and still he was getting distinctly uncomfortable in his trousers.

Thor’s arms were around him, but they still hadn’t moved, despite the enthusiastic response to Loki’s kisses.

Loki pulled back, causing a look of alarm to flash across Thor’s face.

“What’s wrong? Did I - ?” Thor started.

“You’re fine, Thor,” Loki said. “I just want to see more of you.”

Thor’s mouth twitched into a smile, making Loki chuckle. 

Loki sat up, straddling Thor on the bed, and undid the fastenings on his lover’s shirt.

“I want,” he said almost playfully, “to see what I used to spy on in the bathing area of the training grounds.”

Thor tried his best to look scandalised, but couldn’t help but fail. He let Loki slip the shirt over his head and lay there, topless, awaiting inspection.

Loki ran his fingertips from Thor’s stomach to his chest, just lightly touching the skin and making Thor’s breathing get heavier. He felt good. He felt in control. 

He liked it.

Loki reached down and kissed Thor again, savouring the feeling. “You look good,” he said as he broke the kiss.

“Can I see you?” Thor asked. “Can I…?” he reached up and tugged lightly at Loki’s own shirt.

Loki nodded and helped by unfastening it, letting Thor work it off his shoulders and watching as it was flung away to the corner of the room.

Thor trailed his fingers over Loki’s pale skin, gently touching his nipples and stomach. The look on his face was one of complete adoration.

Loki smiled and leaned down to kiss him again. He heard Thor moan softly underneath him as the kiss deepened further. Loki responded by running his hands down the length of Thor’s body, from shoulders to thighs.

Thor moaned in pleasure and bucked his hips upward in response. Loki felt the hard pressure beneath him – 

– and gasped in shock as the Iron Chair flew into his mind.

He leapt off Thor and scrambled back until he hit the headboard, eyes wide and breath coming in pants.

Thor sat up immediately.

“Loki!” he cried out anxiously. “Loki, what happened? What did I do? What’s wrong?”

Everything. Everything was wrong. Loki held up a hand as Thor made to reach for him, stopping the man in his tracks.

Thor froze and just stared at Loki silently as the seconds stretched into minutes.

The Iron Chair had been the pinnacle of the late King’s depravity. It had been the worst, most terrifying experience of Loki’s life. The feeling of something pressing up against him from below was so shocking, so frightening, that for a long time he just stared into the distance as he fought to get his feelings and thoughts under control.

Thor stayed utterly still, a silent and helpless witness to Loki’s terror.

After a few minutes that felt more like hours, Loki found his thoughts returning to coherence inside his own head.

‘This is Thor. Thor is not the King. Thor is not the Iron Chair. Thor is kind. Thor is… is… Thor is love.’

Loki blinked and focussed, making eye contact with Thor and even chancing a small smile.

“I’m sorry,” Thor whispered. “Please tell me what I did wrong?”

Loki took a deep breath as he shook the last of the feeling away. “Don’t…” he managed. “Don’t push up like that, please, it… it reminds me of bad memories.”

Thor carefully climbed off the bed. “I won’t ever do it again,” he swore. 

Loki let out his breath and felt his muscles relax. “Thank you,” he said. “It’s not your fault, please don’t think that. I’m not sure what will feel good and what… won’t. But we’ll find out together.”

Thor nodded and went to pick up his shirt.

“Where are you going?” Loki asked him in a slightly indignant tone. “I had a moment, but if you think we’re done then you’ve got another thing coming.”

Thor looked at him, surprised. “I didn’t think you’d want to continue today,” he said. 

Loki pointed imperiously to the bed. “You’re not getting out of it that easily,” he said, although Thor noticed a slight tremble in his voice. “Come back here and kiss me.”

Thor hung his shirt over the back of a chair and returned to the bed.

“Truly, Loki, we don’t *have* to continue. We can take this slowly,” he said. “I want you more than I can say, but I want you to enjoy yourself even more.”

Loki nodded at him, he looked nervous. “I know you do, and I love you for it, but Thor, I *need* to do this. I want to, I promise, and I suspect there will be more moments like that as we work out what I can and cannot do. I don’t want to stop. I *was* enjoying it, rather a lot actually. Please can we try again?”

Thor shifted until he was settled beside Loki with his back against the headboard. “If you wish to,” he said. “But please, Loki, talk to me. Tell me if something doesn’t feel right and I *will* stop.”

“I know,” Loki said, shifting so that he could bring their mouths together. “I know.”

They began again, kissing gently and slowly exploring each other’s bodies with unsure fingers. Loki did his best to relax. Okay, so he didn’t like sudden, uh, surprises, from underneath him. Noted. Thor wouldn’t do it again, Loki was certain of that. Things would be okay.

He moaned in pleasure as Thor cupped the back of his head and slipped his fingers through his hair.

“It’s so long,” Thor said through their kissing. “Don’t you ever sit on it?”

Loki pulled away from his and laughed. “That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” he exclaimed. “Whether or not I sit on my hair? I mustn’t be commanding your attention very well.”

Thor immediately looked horrified. “You are!” he insisted. “It just jumped into my head!”

Loki kissed him again. “Never mind,” he said, “I’ll just have to work a little harder.”

Thor chuckled beneath his lips and stroked Loki’s hair again. It was tied back, but their activities had made it fall half out of its bindings.

Loki gathered his nerves. He wanted to go further than kissing, even if they didn’t manage to go all the way today, he wanted to see…

He wanted to see Thor, all of Thor, he wanted to see what he was getting himself in for.

He pulled back and tugged at the ties holding Thor’s pants at his waist.

Thor looked excited and nervous at the same time. He reached down and helped Loki undo the last of the ties and lifted his hips (very carefully) to allow Loki to undress him completely.

Well.

Well, well.

It was certainly bigger than the King’s.

Loki looked at it with a mixture of amusement and alarm. How on earth was he supposed to fit that thing inside? It looked like a jousting pole!

Thor was watching him nervously.

“Are you alright?” he asked tentatively.

Loki glanced up at Thor, the expression on his face was unreadable.

“Can I touch it?” he asked.

Thor nodded. “Of course you can, are… are you alright?” he asked again.

Loki nodded slowly, inching his hand closer to Thor as he did so.

“It’s, uh, it’s rather impressive, isn’t it?” Loki said, carefully wrapping his hand around the shaft.

Thor made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, but tried to shrug nonchalantly at the same time. “I never really looked at anyone else enough to check,” he said through his increased panting. 

Loki was moving his hand around as he examined Thor from every angle. His face was one of scholarly interest.

“Loki, please,” Thor whimpered.

Loki glanced up again and immediately looked guilty. “Sorry,” he gasped. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to – “

“Please do not stop,” Thor said in a rush.

Loki put his hand back quickly.

This was nothing like being with the King. This was nothing like anything he’d ever done. Thor was rigid as he tried to hold himself back from moving, and Loki had all the power.

He still wasn’t sure he wanted it inside of him, but seeing Thor so… wonderfully flustered, was doing all kinds of things to Loki’s lower half.

“Hold on,” Loki said and removed his hand again.

Thor hissed his breath out from between his teeth, but as Loki slipped from the bed and pulled off the last of his clothes, Thor took a moment to calm down.

Someone else’s hand was a *lot* different to doing it yourself.

Loki climbed back on the bed and tugged at one of Thor’s ankles. “Lie down,” he instructed.

Thor obeyed, but frowned a little in concern. “Loki, I know I said I wouldn’t push up from beneath you, but if lose control like this I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.

“I don’t want you above me, not yet,” Loki said, “so we’ll have to risk it.”

“May I touch you?” Thor asked. 

Loki froze. “No,” he said. “Not… not today. In the future though, alright?”

Thor nodded. “As you wish,” he said. 

Loki carefully climbed on top of Thor and stared down at the object of his attention. This was it, this was the moment.

“How about we lie on our sides?” Thor said softly, after a few seconds had passed by. “I won’t be on top of you and you can still pull away easily if you have to.”

Loki took a deep breath and nodded. “Good idea,” he said.

He shifted off Thor and lay down beside him on the bed. Thor rolled to his side and they faced each other nervously.

“Kiss me,” Loki whispered. “I like that part a lot.”

Thor grinned and leaned forward, pressing their lips together again. Loki pushed back into it, carefully moving his body close to Thor’s until they were touching down their length, skin to skin.

He could feel Thor pressing between them, he could feel himself, rubbing against Thor.

“Okay,” Loki moaned against Thor’s lips, “you can touch me.”

He took Thor’s hand and guided it to where his penis lay hard and aching. Thor carefully wrapped his fingers around the shaft and stroked gently, making Loki gasp with renewed sensation.

This didn’t feel bad. He was a little nervous still, a part of him was waiting for a painful memory to invade his thoughts, but Thor’s hand didn’t feel like the King’s, it felt strong and a little rough, not bony and paper-like. 

Thor stayed gentle, stroking Loki carefully for a few minutes in a steady motion as they kissed.

Despite everything, Loki was definitely aroused, and not just in the masculine way.

He shifted a little, bringing his leg up and wrapping it over Thor’s body as his hand reached down and found Thor’s penis. 

Thor stopped moving. He held perfectly still as Loki shifted again and lined himself up.

Eyes locked onto one another, Loki slowly lowered himself down onto Thor. He moved at a snail’s pace, and it took Thor everything he had to hold still and let things happen. But, inch by inch (by inch by inch by inch), Loki brought them together.

“You,” he managed when he was fully impaled. “You…are…rather…impressive.”

Thor chuckled, making his body tremble slightly and causing Loki to gasp.

Thor immediately stopped laughing.

“Are you-“ he began, but Loki stopped him by pressing his fingers to Thor’s lips.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m okay. I’m going to move now, alright?”

Thor nodded silently.

Loki put his arms around Thor and began to move his hips gently. Thor groaned in his ear at the sensation.

“Can I touch you again?” he gasped.

Loki had his eyes closed, he was focussing on what he was doing, focussing on the fact that _they were doing this_. He kept twitching his hips carefully up and down.

Thor didn’t ask again. He held Loki carefully in his arms and tried to keep still. It was difficult. His instincts were telling him to move, faster, harder…at all. But Loki was far more important than Thor’s own pleasure.

After a few minutes, Loki began to move more freely, deepening his movements as he slid upon Thor’s shaft. 

“Do you feel alright?” he managed.

Thor kissed his gently. “This…feels…wonderful,” he replied, but Loki could hear the strain in his voice.

Thor was begin so good for him, he was trying so hard. Loki wished he could just be totally free, wished he could give Thor the luxury of relaxing and fully enjoying what they were doing together.

Not yet, but one day, maybe. This was happening. Loki *was* capable of physical love.

“Touch me?” he said, increasing his movements a fraction more.

Thor reached down between them and began to stroke Loki again.

Ooooh yes, this felt good.

Loki looked up into Thor’s blue eyes and saw nothing but love, *real* love, not that filthy perverted lust that he’d been forced to live with for so long.

Loki realised that he wanted to make Thor lose control. Not now, but one day. He wanted to see Thor lost in pleasure.

The thought made him moan and the heat in his groin increased.

“Move with me,” he gasped. “Gently, please, move with me.”

Thor obeyed, twitching his hips carefully in time with Loki’s. 

“Little more,” Loki gasped, “little… more…”

Thor shifted again; increase his pace just a bit more. His cheeks were turning a wonderful shade of red.

“Loki… please… I’m going to…” he moaned.

Loki kissed him deeply, pressing their bodies together in a tight embrace. Thor cried out against Loki’s lips and came hard, emptying himself inside Loki’s body.

Thor’s release was enough for Loki, *he’d* made that happen, *he’d* brought Thor this pleasure. 

Thor had waited centuries for this, centuries for *Loki*, because Loki was the only one Thor wanted to do this with.

With a cry of his own, Loki spilled himself across their stomachs.

****

Loki had not wanted to cuddle afterwards. He’d achieved something he’d thought was beyond him forever, but there was no sense pushing his luck. He sat on the end of the bed instead tried to assemble his thoughts about what they’d just done while Thor lay on the bed with a dopey grin on his face.

Loki saw the grin and rolled his eyes. “You look drugged,” he commented.

Thor tried to straighten his face, but the grin was back a moment later.

Loki tried to look annoyed but he couldn’t help himself. He felt a little odd. He felt… happy, and light, but also concerned and a little anxious.

He’d done it. He’d achieved number five, and on the first try too. That was something to be proud of.

On the other hand, it hadn’t exactly been a carefree experience. What if this was the best that he could do? Did Thor mind?

Well, he clearly didn’t *right now*, but in the future?

Loki was worried.

Then he looked at Thor.

The same Thor he hoped to marry one day.

It would make a lot of sense to discuss it with him.

Loki sighed; he hated it when his thoughts ganged up on him. They were right, though; he should discuss things with his, hopefully, future husband.

“Was that alright?” he asked.

Thor raised his head to look at him. “That was amazing,” he said. “I can see why Fandral likes it so much.”

Loki laughed. “I’m glad you liked it. I never thought there was anything to like, but I liked what it did to you,” he said.

Thor became serious immediately.

“And you?” he asked, sitting up properly and moving to sit beside Loki on the edge of the bed. “Did you like what it did to you?”

Loki bit his lip. “It was… very different to what I did before. I don’t know yet. I liked some of it. I’d like to do it again,” he looked up at Thor. “As long as it’s with you,” he added. “But, um, if we don’t ever do more than this, if you always have to hold still like that, or only move a little, does that bother you? I don’t yet know how far I can go, and I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

Thor smiled at him. “Loki, I waited three hundred and seventy years, give or take a decade, for you to be right here in this room with me. I would have waited a lifetime with nothing more than the *memory* of you to sustain me. If this is all we ever do then it is far more than I ever allowed myself to hope for. I love *you*, whether we managed this or not. You will never disappoint me, not here, not in any way.”

Loki leaned up and kissed him.

“I’m so glad we did this,” he said, and he meant it.


	85. Eighty Four Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never Hide Anything From Your Mother

Loki’s eyes snapped open in the middle of the night. For a terrifying second he thought he was back in Vanaheim, back in the palace, back in bed beside the king.

But no; he may not be alone in his bed, but that was because he’d asked Thor to stay the night.

They had spent the evening quietly together, sipping ale and quietly talking about what they’d done and where they were going to go from here. As the fire died and Thor made ‘leaving’ noises, Loki had quietly asked him to stay.

Now it was the dead of night, and Loki was awake, alert, and curious as to why. He could hear Thor breathing beside him peacefully. It couldn’t have been a prowler then, maybe a cat?

Feeling odd, Loki slipped from the beneath the covers and went to the window. 

The world was quiet. 

Loki sighed softly. Maybe he was just on edge after what they’d done together. It had been such a big step, maybe even the biggest step.

But maybe not.

Maybe that’s why he was awake, maybe he was worried that their biggest challenge was still ahead of them.

Them, not him.

Despite himself, Loki smiled in the darkness.

They were a Them.

His smile became a grin.

He and Thor, Thor and him. 

Loki tried not to chuckle, but failed to supress the urge.

Thor’s eyes snapped open in the bed and he immediately looked for Loki. 

“Are you all right?” he asked quietly as Loki struggled not to giggle.

“Mmm hmm,” Loki managed. He wasn’t sure how to explain the sudden feeling of lightness that was surrounding him, making him feel giddy.

Thor got out of bed and went to his side. “Are you sure?” he asked gently. “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing,” Loki said. “I’m not laughing at anything, I’m laughing because I’m happy, so happy I can’t help it.”

Thor’s teeth flashed white in the darkness as he grinned.

“Are you happy because of me?” he asked.

Loki chuckled again. “Because of us,” he said. “We are an Us, and I’m not a Me, and I’m not afraid of that. I was, I was terrified of being a part of someone else’s identity, but I don’t feel that way with you. I feel happy.”

Thor leaned down slightly and gently kissed him on the lips. “I feel happy too,” he said. “But also cold, the fire’s gone out and we shouldn’t be out of bed.”

Loki’s shout of laughter echoed through the house.

“You sound like Mother!” he exclaimed.

Thor might have been blushing, but it was impossible to tell in the dark. “I just-“ he tried to explain and stopped when he realised he had nothing to say. “I’m turning into my mother,” he whispered, horrified.

“Let’s go back to bed before you say anything else,” Loki said. “It’s good that you have a fussy streak, we’re going to need it when the children come and it’s damn well not going to come from me.”

Thor turned to face him. “You are already thinking about children?” he asked.

Loki pulled a face. “I know we have to,” he said. “I’ve always known. I had to reconcile myself to that years ago. I can do it, I think… I hope… Oh.”

Loki sank down onto the bed. “What if I can’t?” he said in sudden horror, his mood turning quickly downward.

Thor sat down quickly beside him. “Don’t think about it now,” he said. “We’re young, we’re not even married yet, and children might be required for a royal marriage but it doesn’t matter if we wait until you’re ready. *I’m* not ready, at least, I don’t think I am.”

“What if I never am?” Loki asked.

Thor shrugged. “What if *I* never am?” he countered. “I’m the one who has to have them no matter what, there was never a choice. We’ll get through it together. Besides, we can’t do worse than Odin, no one can do worse than Odin. We’ll be all right.”

Loki nodded slowly. “That’s true,” he said, a little shakily. “Promise me our children will be free to choose their own partners, please?”

“I promise I will never make them marry anyone that they do not love, or anyone at all if they choose,” Thor said seriously as he took both of Loki’s hands in his. “This I swear once, this I swear twice, this I swear thrice.”

Despite Thor’s words, Loki found he could not relax. They were royal, royalty were always binding ties together with their children. What if one day Thor had to break his oath?

No. Thor would never do that. Thor’s word was ironclad.

Loki slipped slowly beneath the covers again, pulling the blankets over his shoulder and snuggling back down. Thor got in on the other side and settled down himself. He was careful not to reach out and hold Loki. Loki had already said that he did not like being held while he slept.

“We’re going to be all right, my love,” Thor whispered sleepily.

Loki nodded, his eyes were already closed. “I believe it,” he said. “I believe you.”

****

It did not take long for the whole of Asgard to find out that Crown Prince Thor was no longer spending his nights at the palace. He appeared to be quite happy living with his lover in the Spice District and flying to his duties every day. The realm, as one, waited eagerly for a royal wedding announcement, with most people believing that Thor’s choice was a good one.

Loki had, after all, reinvigorated the slums. He was well known and respected among the mages of both Asgard and Vanaheim. He had political connections through his first marriage and was already well practised at being a queen. Then there was the fact that he was a prince of Asgard himself, raised there, and fully understanding of their culture and the needs of the citizens.

Who could ask for more?

Loki certainly found that he was living in his happiest days. Life with Thor wasn’t perfect, but then neither of them had expected it to be. It was as close to perfect as two people in love could make it though, and together they managed to establish a new routine.

Their careful experiments with sex were slowly showing Loki what he could and could not do. Lying on their sides? Yes. On top of Thor? After a few false starts, also yes. Underneath? No, not yet. Loki did not like to feel trapped in any way.

It was strange to approach it in this way. In every other respect they were just like two young people in love. They flirted, they did silly things to make one another smile, they bought each other presents ‘just because’, on the outside there was nothing wrong at all.

Only they knew what they were going through in private as they tried to navigate a path through something they both wanted but both, in their own ways, feared.

Thor was terrified of hurting Loki. He could be so careful sometimes that it was irritating, and Loki was not a man who dealt well with people who irritated him.

“I am not made of glass!” Loki shouted in the living room, his eyes flashing with temper.

“I never said you were!” Thor countered. “All I said was that I didn’t want to pressure you by trying to initiate something spontaneous!”

“I like spontaneous!” Loki shouted.

“You told me you didn’t like surprises!” Thor yelled back.

“SO?!”

“So surprises tend to be spontaneous!” Thor yelled.

For a second they glared at one another, and then Loki’s lips twitched.

So did Thor’s.

“That’s a very good point,” Loki said begrudgingly.

Thor nodded curtly. “I thought so,” he said.

“M.sry,” Loki mumbled.

“What was that?” Thor asked, holding his hand theatrically behind his ear.

“I’m sorry,” Loki said through gritted teeth, but his mouth had betrayed him and his eyes were beginning to laugh.

Thor came up slowly and gave Loki a hug. “I will try to be a little more spontaneous,” he said. “But I will also let you know when I’m going to do it so you won’t be surprised.”

“Thank you,” Loki said into Thor’s shoulder. “That’s all I ask.”

****

Months went by, and no announcement was made. No one, outside of the two lovers themselves, knew that this was because of Loki’s list, and the two unfinished clauses still upon it.

Number 6 was a difficult one. _Conquering my lingering fears of the Ink._

How exactly one went about that Loki did not know. He knew that he was happier than he’d ever been before. He knew that he was loved and capable of loving in return. He knew that he wanted a future with Thor and was prepared to face the hardships that might come of it. But how would he ever get rid of the Ink?

He still had bad dreams. He still woke in the night feeling the horrible slimy sensation on his skin. These days he forced himself to remain in bed and endure it until the feeling started to fade, but he was still secretly glad to bathe every morning, as though cleansing would help.

It bothered him in his darker hours. It haunted his private fears.

But Loki was not the boy he used to be. He was not so foolish as to fall into the trap of believing that he had to face his fears alone.

He sought out Eir, and asked if she would listen. Twice a week, for an hour at a time, Loki and Eir spoke about what had happened to him, what it had done to him, and about how he could move on from his fears and hopefully, finally, let them go.

“I want them gone. I want to feel clean,” Loki said to her as they made up a healing draught together. Loki had found it easier to talk and confide when he was doing something with his hands, and Eir wasn’t stupid enough to put a trained potion-maker to waste.

“You have come a long way already, Loki,” Eir replied. “You said that the Ink doesn’t bother you every day, only when you are stressed or upset. That’s a good sign that it’s already fading from what it once was.”

“I know, but I want it gone, fully gone, that way I can relax,” Loki said.

Eir took a careful breath. This was going to be difficult.

“I’m afraid that, with a trauma like this, there is a chance that it will never be truly gone, and you will have to, as many before you have had to, live with the remnants of this for the rest of your life,” she said, keeping her voice calm and gentle.

Loki froze in horror. “No,” he said. “I thought that once and it almost destroyed me. I have to beat it, my future depends on it.”

“Why does your future depend on it?” Eir asked.

Loki pouted, realised he was doing it, and stopped. “I made a list,” he confessed. “A list of things I have to do. When they’re done then I can marry Thor.”

“I had wondered why there’d been no announcement,” Eir said. “The common people think it’s coming any day now.”

“Not yet,” Loki said. “I need to be free of the Ink, and I need to… I need to work with Odin. I need to face him and speak to him and *work* with him, for the good of Asgard, despite how I feel about him as a person.”

Eir was impressed. This was mature thinking from a boy who had, as a child, often held grudges that worked in his own interests. But Loki was not a boy anymore. He hadn’t been a boy in centuries, perhaps ever since he’d left home the first time.

“A notable goal,” Eir said. “When do you plan on trying to achieve it?”

Loki shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “I like what I’m doing right now, but if I were on some of the councils I might have more influence to advance my work in the slums. Of course, I want to be with Thor, so I should really try doing it soon.”

He scowled suddenly, anger flaring up easily as it always did when he allowed himself time to be vulnerable. “Why does everything have to be so difficult?” he snapped to no one.

“You set the goals, Loki, you have the power to change them,” Eir said gently. “Although I happen to think that learning to work with Odin is a fine goal to make.”

Loki calmed down almost immediately. He was getting better at that as time went on.

“After the visit to Vanaheim,” he said at last. “Thor and I are going in the spring, it’s in another month. After that, I will ask permission to join some of the councils here. Thor is already on some of them, I will ask to join the others, between us, we will be working princes, who know the value of our realm.”

Eir smiled. “And a good thing that will be,” she said. “But Loki, please consider what I said about your other goal. It may be that the Ink can never be truly banished, but it can be controlled. You have done a magnificent job of doing so already.”

“I’ll consider it,” Loki conceded, “after I get back from Vanaheim.”

****

Haewkyr had kept his word and written to Loki to tell him when the Vanir spring was due to arrive. Thor and Loki had composed a letter together asking King Dorgen if he would grant them permission to visit their family in the east, Mother in the west, and to see the Falls of the Spritefolk with Prince Musleen and Princess Daenceia.

Permission had been granted, along with an invitation to stay at the palace for a few days to see old friends, and now the day had finally come to leave.

They would be gone for three whole months. Their visit was technically a political one, as most royal visits are. From the point of view of the nobility, the ties between Asgard and Vanaheim were stronger than ever.

The credit for that went entirely to Loki.

He didn’t want it. He didn’t like the price he’d had to pay for it.

“Ignore them,” Thor advised him with a whisper after yet another noble remarked that Loki’s time in Vanaheim had had a fortunate outcome for everyone.

“Ignore them? My dear heart I am taking notes,” Loki whispered back. “There will be dead frogs all around tonight if this keeps up.”

Thor chuckled deeply, trying to keep himself quiet. In the eleven years since Loki had returned to Asgard, he had managed to gain remarkable control over himself when it came to those with no idea as to his pain. Only Thor was there to see Loki wake from nightmares, gasping and shaking. Only Thor knew that Loki was still plagued, and might well always be so.

But he was also able to be happy. He was able to laugh and relax without constantly watching for a threat that was long gone. Thor had watched as slowly, in miniscule amounts, Loki had learnt to trust again.

There were times in the last eleven years that Thor was certain Loki had come as far as he was able, and at every stage Thor had been ridiculously proud of him, only to be surprised anew with another little milestone, another small victory.

Loki was incredible.

They rode slowly down the Bifrost and dismounted at the end, walking their horses through to the centre of the observatory. Loki was planning to leave Lightning with their grandparents while he and Thor travelled, as Haewkyr had found a few mares that would do for breeding. Loki had told Thor quite seriously that Lightning was looking forward to it, and Thor was only half-sure that he’d been joking.

Heimdall activated the Bifrost and they whirled away, landing in the courtyard outside of Lord Fallconyr’s castle.

Their grandparents were there waiting for them.

“My babies!” Lord Eadgleyr exclaimed and stepped forward to give them squashing hugs.

Lord Fallconyr waited until he stepped back to do the same. “It’s so good to see you both,” he said, grinning broadly. “Is that all you’ve brought with you? It’s hardly anything.”

“We’ve both been on enough quests to know how to pack,” Thor said with a smile.

“Do you consider a visit to your grandparents to be a quest?” Lord Eadgleyr asked, looking outraged. “You are princes, I was expecting baggage trains and heavy chests of cloth.”

Loki laughed. “I can’t imagine hauling all of that around,” he said. “I never want to be *that* kind of a prince.”

“Come inside,” Lord Eadgleyr said, “I’ll get the servants to put your *bag* in your room while we have some tea and catch up on all the news.”

Still smiling, Loki and Thor followed their grandparents inside and up the stairs to one of the living rooms.

“Frigga is coming to visit,” Lord Fallconyr said as they sat down. “She didn’t want to wait to see you and so she’s coming to stay. I believe she’s due tomorrow.”

Thor grinned. “I’ve missed her,” he said, as Loki nodded. “It’ll be wonderful to see her in person rather than sending letters.”

“I’m going to ask her if she is planning to marry Lord Kinndyr.” Loki said. “It’s about time she got on with it; everyone knows they’re meant for each other.”

Lord Fallconyr gave Loki a very pointed look, which was broken only when Lord Eadgleyr forced a teacup into his hand. “You let those two take their time,” he said as Lord Fallconyr was forced to look down to take the cup. “They’ve both been through a lot to get where they are.”

Loki wasn’t exactly sure whether they were still talking about Frigga. He changed the subject quickly.

“Where’s Haewkyr? He said he had some mares for Lightning.”

“He’s over in the next town, he and Smairken are visiting the market there, Haewkyr was rather cagey as to why, but it’s probably some new breed of animal that he wants to introduce. He has a habit of bringing them here first and working out what well do with them later,” Lord Fallconyr said, smiling.

“They’ll be back tonight and you can ask him about the mares, I know he has some in the meadow, they’re probably for you,” Lord Eadgleyr said. 

“I’ve never tried breeding horses before, I hope it’s not too difficult,” Loki said.

“Most animals can work it out, even people get it right eventually,” Lord Fallconyr said. 

“People have a lot more to be concerned about,” Loki said. “You’d be a fool if you didn’t worry about children.”

Thor nodded. “Very true,” he said.

The two lords, who between them had enough children, grandchildren and great grandchildren to create an army, smiled at one another.

“Everyone is scared with their first one, and everyone wonders why when they have a second,” Lord Fallconyr said.

“I know I’ll be,” Thor confessed. “Babies are so small, I don’t even know how to hold one without breaking it.”

“Practise on a rabbit,” Lord Fallconyr suggested, earning a look from his wife that somehow combined the elements of love, contempt, and incredulousness into a single expression.

Thor looked positively alarmed. “I’ve never held a rabbit unless it was to break its neck for supper!” he exclaimed. 

“Do *not* practise on a rabbit,” Loki said quickly.

****

Haewkyr and Smairken arrived as the evening light was fading. They headed inside to wash and then down to the hall for dinner.

“There they are,” Haewkyr said, spotting Loki and Thor as he entered the hall. “They look happy.”

“Oh good,” Smairken said dryly. “Let’s eat.”

Haewkyr ignored his grumbling. Smairken always grumbled after a long time travelling. Instead he threw his arm around Smairken’s shoulders and cheerfully dragged him halfway across the hall to where Loki and Thor were eating.

“Got room?” he asked, ignoring Smairken’s growls of protest at being overpowered.

“Sure,” Loki answered, shuffling up. This put him thigh to thigh against Thor but he didn’t mind.

Haewkyr released Smairken and sat down, shooting his lover a grin and offering him a plate of potatoes as an attempt at peace.

Smairken sneered at him and dropped down heavily onto the bench, determinedly looking straight ahead.

After a few seconds he took the plate of potatoes and scraped a third of them onto his plate.

“Don’t think you’re forgiven,” he said.

Haewkyr grinned and waved the butter dish under his nose. “Okay,” he said cheerfully.

Smairken took the butter dish and leaned past Haewkyr to look at Loki. “And how are you, your Graces?” he asked.

“See how cold he is to me?” Haewkyr said.

Loki ignored Haewkyr and answered Smairken. “We’re both well, and yourself? Our grandparents told us that you had been out all day in the next village? They thought perhaps you were buying a new breed of cattle or horse.”

Smairken’s face immediately glowed with mirth. “I certainly bought something large and unmanageable,” he said. 

Haewkyr hastily shot him a look which made Loki instantly suspicious.

“We were thinking of buying a puppy, which you will love and go silly over,” Haewkyr said. He leaned over to take Loki and Thor into his confidence. “He cooed at them in the basket,” he whispered. “He’s going all soft. It’s adorable.”

Thor chuckled as Smairken looked outraged.

“I did *not*,” he insisted.

Haewkyr gave Loki a wink.

“So you’re here for a month, at Lord Kinndyr’s for a month and at the Falls for a month, yes?” he asked, changing the subject.

“That’s the plan,” Loki said cheerfully. “Will you be coming with us, or are you needed here?”

“We’ll be coming,” Smairken said. “My father wrote to me a few days ago and asked us to come and stay. Whether we go on to the Falls as well we will have to determine later on.”

They dug into their food, eating hungrily.

“What kind of puppies were they?” Thor asked after a few minutes, “hunting dogs?”

Haewkyr finished his mouthful first. “Yes,” he said, “because Smairken likes to hunt.”

“Oh yes,” Smairken drawled. “I love it so much, all that training and feeding and taking it for runs.”

Haewkyr shot him another look, which Smairken returned with a smirk.

“I’m sure you’ll be excellent at caring for it,” Loki said, sensing the awkwardness but not knowing what else to say.

“*I* will be extremely competent,” Smairken said, “because I have had a lot of practice taking care of my husband.”

“Husband?” Loki repeated as Haewkyr started to blush bright red. “When did this happen? Why didn’t you *tell* me?”

“Ah, well, that’s why we were gone so long today actually,” Haewkyr said. “We met the records officer in the village and swore to be legally bound. It’s not that important.”

“My *husband* loves a party, but not when he’s the reason,” Smairken said, putting extra emphasis on the word. “I have gone along with his plan in order to watch it fail spectacularly when we tell everyone. His parents will throw a party, *my* father will throw a party, that’s twice the number of parties we would have gotten if we’d had a planned ceremony.”

Haewkyr was pulling a face. “I may have gotten caught up in the romance,” he admitted. “Maybe we can talk them into combining them.”

Loki chuckled and Smairken snickered. Together they formed a choir of evil delight.

Thor shot Haewkyr a grin. “From what I can tell, most wedding parties only have a small amount of formality anyway,” he assured the other man. “A few speeches, a few toasts, then plenty of drinking, dancing and merriment, you’ll enjoy most of it. And afterwards of course you are still married happily to the one you love.”

“Who’s still married happily?” said a voice from behind them.

It was Clearwlyr, Haewkyr’s older brother.

There as a moment when all four faces looked horribly guilty.

Clearwlyr scanned them all carefully before his eyes settled on Haewkyr. “Mother’s going to kill you for not letting her come and be a witness,” he said bluntly.

Haewkyr groaned and dropped his head.

“Mother!” Clearwlyr screamed across the hall as Haewkyr’s head shot back up in alarm.

“Wait-“ he started to say but it was too late.

“Haewkyr and Smairken got MARRIED today!!” Clearwlyr bellowed to the hall.

The entire hall went silent.

All heads turned to where Haewkyr’s mother, Lady Herdwigia, sat beside her husband. She was a dainty-looking woman with good-natured features that were currently forming a mask of shock.

This did not last long.

“And you didn’t TELL ME!” she yelled, standing up and leaving her place to come striding across the hall.

Loki and Thor leaned heavily away from Haewkyr as she approached him like an avenging angel. Haewkyr, like many big men confronted by their mothers, just cowered in his seat.

“How could you not tell me? How could you slip away and get married and not invite your MOTHER? Poor Smairken here should have had a proper feast tonight! You’ve treated him very poorly!”

‘Poor’ Smairken was trying desperately not to double over in laughter. His face was one of pure agony as he fought to keep himself under control.

“We will have a NICE, WONDERFUL, feast with PLENTY of good wine to celebrate, and we will have it TOMORROW! And you, my boy, will LIKE IT!”

Having said her piece, she calmed down immediately and gave Haewkyr a hug, reaching out to pull Smairken into the fold.

“I’m so happy for you both,” she said. “I know that you’ve been very happy together over this last decade and I think it’s wonderful that you are committing to each other.”

“Thank you,” Smairken said in a muffled voice. His shoulders were trembling from trying not to laugh. Haewkyr looked embarrassed.

“Thank you mother,” he said, eyeing the hall and trying to stare down his relatives, none of whom were having a bar of it.

“It’s going to be the best party ever!” Clearwlyr said, grinning cheerfully.

****

The feast did not take place the next day, organising such a huge affair took longer than one day, and Haewkyr’s mother was determined to make it as grand as possible, which Smairken found utterly hilarious.

Loki and Thor did their best to stay out of the way, as did Lord Fallconyr, who had decided that he wasn’t going to argue with his daughter in law when it came to her third son’s wedding feast.

“We’ll just hide in the Properties Room,” he said to Loki one morning. “They have no reason to come in there.”

‘They’ included Lord Eadgleyr, who was cheerfully giving Lady Herdwigia free reign to organise as she liked. Haewkyr’s plan had indeed backfired and nobody was lifting a finger to help him.

Thor got himself out of the way by finding farm work to do. He and Cleawlyr disappeared each day in the early morning, waving cheerfully to Haewkyr, who had to stay behind and help his mother organise his wedding celebrations.

“Don’t look so mournful,” Smairken said with a sly smirk, “it’s going to be a wonderful party.”

Haewkyr just sighed heavily and turned back to the map of the seating arrangements.

“I’m an utter fool,” he said.

“Yes, but you’re *my* utter fool,” Smairken said, slipping his arms around Haewkyr’s broad shoulders and giving him a warm hug. “And if you tell anyone I got soppy I’ll put leeches in your bathwater,” he added, for good measure.


	86. Eighty Five Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedding Feasts and Wedding Nights

Large scale celebrations full of music, good food and plenty of dancing were not that bad when you weren’t the centre of attention, Loki thought to himself approximately midway through Haewkyr and Smairken’s marriage feast. In fact the evening was looking to become fixed as a favourite memory. Thor was by Loki’s side, everyone was happy, and perhaps most importantly of all, Frigga had arrived the day before, escorted by her attentive suitor, Lord Kinndyr. 

They had been very surprised to hear that Smairken had married, although Lord Kinndyr had gotten over it relatively quickly. 

“You will never do things the way I expect, but I can see you are happy, so let us celebrate, here and at home, you are coming home for a visit yes?”

Smairken had given firm assent as Haekwyr looked pained. Another celebration? Did he have to?

“You were the one who wanted to get married without anyone in attendance,” Smairken pointed out with a smirk. “My brothers will want to celebrate, no doubt we shall have a wonderland party in the maze, it will be a great event for the ages!”

“Stop teasing me, I can’t take it anymore,” Haewkyr moaned softly before leaning down to breathe his next words into Smairken’s ear. “Which is what you are going to be panting at me tonight if you don’t quit smirking like that.”

Smairken turned to look at him with eyes that glittered in anticipation. “Oh really?” he answered. “Make me.”

From the other side of the room, Loki observed the happy couple with a look of intense concentration. 

“What is on your mind?” Thor asked him, seeing the look.

Loki shook his head. He was not yet willing to share the thoughts that had emerged at the sight of Haewkyr and Smairken looking so happy together, in spite of the business and the fuss that surrounded them.

“You two look so well,” Frigga said, coming up to them with a smile. “It’s good to see you in person, I’ve missed you both, despite your letters.”

Thor gave their mother a one-armed hug. “We have missed you as well, Mother, especially you wise council.”

“You couldn’t possibly need my council at this point, Thor, I know you work hard to maintain the workings of the realm,” Frigga said with a smile.

“Even so,” Thor added, “you did so much, and taking over your duties has only reinforced to me how much more there will be to do one day.”

“I could help you,” Loki said, almost absently.

But deep inside he was thinking of how number seven on his list might be accomplished. He might not be able to conquer the Ink, but watching Haewkyr and Smairken was starting to make him feel awkward inside, as though he didn’t want to wait any more. 

But no. He had to be sensible, at least, he had to try. He’d done so well to come this far, he wasn’t about to rush in.

“I’d like that,” Thor said, trying to hide the shock on his face. Loki had not made a single mention of being ready to join any of the councils. “What were you thinking of?”

Loki shrugged. “We can work it out when we get back,” he said. “But I like the idea of staying with education and social welfare.”

Thor nodded, he knew how dedicated Loki was to the slums and the people within, it was hardly unexpected. “Uh…” he started nervously. “Odin sits on the welfare council, it deals with more than just those in poverty.”

Loki nodded firmly, like a man who had made his mind up to ride into battle and was now wholly committed, come what may. “Good,” he said.

Thor and Frigga exchanged glances, but mutually decided not to try and dig further. Loki had a faraway look in his eyes that meant that he was thinking beyond the here and now. A big decision had been made and this was simply the tip of the iceberg.

It did not escape Thor’s notice, however, that this big decision had been made while staring at two newlyweds, but he resolved not to say anything.

“Mother, tell me,” he said instead, “have you and Lord Kinndyr come to an understanding of your own? Am I to call him stepfather before too long?”

Frigga blushed like a sunset, diverting Loki from his thoughts instantly.

“Yes, Mother, we think it’s high time you were made a proper lady of the Fens,” Loki said.

Frigga sighed, despite her blushes she looked suddenly sad. 

“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen,” she said. “Your father hasn’t released me from my wedding vows. I have left him, but we are still married. I am grateful that Kinndyr doesn’t seem to mind the scandal, he’s a very good man.”

Thor frowned. “That’s outrageous!” he exclaimed, causing Frigga to shush him gently.

Loki, for his part, had gone extremely pale but for two spots of red, high on his cheeks. 

“We’ll just have to do something about that then, won’t we?” he said in a voice that caused both Frigga and Thor to shiver.

“Loki, Thor, my darling boys, leave it be. I am happy as I am, and Kinndyr doesn’t care,” Frigga said, trying to defuse the situation. “Please enjoy the party, and try not to think about these things, you’re on a holiday! You should be relaxing.”

Thor sighed and gave her a smile. Loki held out for a minute more before nodding curtly. “Very well,” he said. “I shall drop it.” He waited until Frigga walked away, back to Lord Kinndyr’s side, before adding: “until we get home.”

****

Loki was a little tipsy. The party had gone on until morning, and the wine had flowed freely, now, as the morning sun rose and crept in through the windows of the hall, everyone staggered off to bed.

Loki pulled Thor in close as soon as they were in their chambers. “Kiss me,” he whispered.

Thor grinned and complied, pressing his lips gently against Loki’s, savouring the taste and feel as they pressed against one another.

“I want you right now,” Loki said.

Thor kissed him again, moving slowly back to the bed as he shed his jacket and shirt.

Loki pushed Thor down and climbed on top of him. In the last few months they had managed to have… not the most passionate of sex lives, but something almost normal, if observed from the outside. Thor knew what would and would not be accepted and stuck strictly within those guidelines. There were times when they would experiment and try new things, but those times were always cautious and, usually, full of mistakes and setbacks. Tonight was not going to be experimental though, tonight they could simply feel like two young people filled with equal parts love and lust. 

Loki pulled Thor’s pants down and off, throwing them gracelessly to the floor along with his boots.

Thor lay back on the bed with his shirt open and his socks still on. He reached up both hands towards Loki, inviting him closer so that he too could start to shed some of his clothes.

****

Haekwyr had finally escaped. The party had been everything he hated, everything Smairken usually hated, although he had greatly enjoyed this one, due entirely to his husbands discomfort.

Smairken sighed theatrically and began to undress. “What a night,” he said, “and I can’t believe that we get to do it all again when we get to Father’s.”

Haewkyr growled under his breath.

“Of course wonderland parties are so much bigger, spread out among the maze. We’ll have to seek out each and every attraction,” Smairken continued.

Haewkyr pulled his shirt off and threw it into the corner.

“Father will invite everyone from the Fens of course, maybe even some royalty. I believe Prince Musleen and Princess Daenceia should be in the area, as they are heading for the Falls with Loki and Thor, yes?” Smairken added. “So much music and dancing, so many people to meet and thank for their well wishes, oh Darling it’ll be _wonderful_.”

Haewkyr gave up, turned and grabbed Smairken around the waist and lifted him bodily onto their bed. “I’ve been listening to you tease me all night,” he said. “It ends now.”

Smairken wriggled against him, sending little sparks of pleasure shooting straight to Haewkyr’s groin.

“I believe I told you to make me?” Smairken challenged.

Haewkyr pinned him firmly to the bed and slammed their mouths together in a hard, furious, passionate kiss.

****

Thor gently peeled away Loki’s clothing, kissing slowly across the pale skin as he did so. He moaned in delight as he said. “You’re beautiful.”

“And manly,” Loki said.

“Extremely,” Thor agreed. 

It was a sticking point with Loki that he did not like being thought of as womanly, and indeed, it had taken Thor a number of arguments to convince Loki that men could indeed be described as beautiful.

_“Look at Fandral? Tell me that there is a better word to describe him? With that hair? With his pretty teeth that have yet to be knocked out?”_

_“Well… alright.” Loki had begrudgingly agreed. “But only when we’re alone.”_

“I want to touch you,” Thor moaned.

“You are touching me,” Loki pointed out in between little pants, as Thor was lightly playing with his nipples and it was proving very distracting.

“I want to touch you in other places,” Thor said, grinning.

Loki smiled, and shuffled back so that he could unfasten his pants. “I suppose if you must,” he said, biting his lip in the way that made Thor get a hungry look in his eye.

Loki liked the hungry look. It didn’t frighten him, it made him tingle.

****

Smairken shoved Haewkyr off and rolled them over so that he was on top.

“You don’t get it all your own way,” he gasped, grabbing Haewkyr’s robe and yanking it up. Haewkyr, true to his own preferences, was wearing pants beneath them. Smairken rolled his eyes. “You never make things easy for me, do you?” he said in an exasperated tone.

Haewkyr grinned. “No, but I believe you’ve made things very easy for me.”

With that he snuck a hand under Smariken’s robe and fondled what he found beneath. Smairken made a delightful noise and temporarily lost track of what he was doing. Haewkyr took advantage of his distraction to roll them back over, before working his hand firmly into Smairken’s undergarments.

“Do you want to be romantic?” Haewkyr asked. “On the night of our wedding feast? Or do you want me to prove how badly I’ve been longing for you all damn night?”

Smairken grabbed him by the hair and kissed him roughly. “Show me how much you want it,” he growled.

Haewkyr grinned and reached across to the nightstand for the oil.

**** 

Loki positioned himself on top of Thor and took some deep breathes to steady himself. He still hesitated at this moment, once Thor was inside it was different, better even, Loki could relax and allow himself to enjoy it. But this moment, the moment of penetration, he hated how nervous this moment made him feel, even knowing that it was Thor beneath him, and that Thor would never hurt him.

Thor held still, like a statue to the god of patience. Not for the first time, Loki wondered how Thor could be happy with times like this.

Loki used his fingers some more, he’d already opened himself up and ensured that he was wet and slick, but he wanted some last minute assurance.

Thor, watched Loki with wide, hungry eyes. Loki had no idea what the sight of him opening himself up did to Thor’s sanity.

Satisfied at last, Loki took Thor’s penis in hand and carefully lowered himself down the length.

Thor held tightly to the sheets beneath him and didn’t move an inch until Loki was properly seated. Only then did he carefully reach up and rest his hands on Loki’s hips.

Loki gave him a grin, and started to rock in place.

****

Smairken took advantage of Haewkyr’s reaching for the oil to overbalance him and flip them again. Most of their lovemaking was a fight for dominance until the very last moment, with the one on the receiving end only conceding the fight when they were actually penetrated, with no hope of slipping off. Haewkyr reacted swiftly, furthering the roll and pinning Smairken again, this time on the far side of the bed.

“Do that again and we’ll be on the floor,” he said, trying for a charming grin.

Smairken tried to roll back the other way but Haewkyr had the upper hand, and the upper hand was currently coated in oil. He slipped it beneath Smairken’s robes and wriggled a finger inside, ignoring the whimpering sounds coming from his husband.

Smairken almost gave in right there, Haewkyr was *very* good and finding his sweet spot. But he wouldn’t be *him* if he didn’t fight to the last.

Another wriggle, a hand down to pull up Haekwyr’s robe, and the second one down the front of his loosened pants. Haewkyr make a surprised kind of sound as Smairken massaged what he found, using the time to get himself off Haewkyr’s finger and reaching with the other hand for some oil of his own.

He pushed Haewkyr’s pants down just over the hips and tried to get his fingers down far enough.

Haewkyr, it seemed, had not been quite as distracted as he had been making out. Smairken had to bend a little to reach him, and that left his own hole vulnerable. Haewkyr wriggled two fingers inside, ignoring the little shriek of outrage at Smairken having been foiled. Haewkyr quickly shifted, pulling Smairken’s oiled hand down to rub the length of Haewkyr’s penis, using Smairken’s own actions against him. Pressing the advantage, he wriggled a third finger inside and worked them around, trying to get Smairken opened up quickly. After all, Haewkyr had come this far before only to ‘lose’. Smairken was a tricky one.

Sure enough, as Hawkyr finally pulled out, certain that Smairken was ready for him, Smairken pulled one more trick, flipping Haewkyr up and pinning him in turn.

Haewkyr grinned. He’d been expecting that move, time to try what he’d been planning for weeks.

In the training yard, when sparing, new moves were often practiced against multiple partners to see if it could really work. In the bedroom, there was no such luxury. Haewkyr had been imagining his next move until he was sure he could pull it off perfectly, first time.

Grabbing Smairken firmly by the hips, Haewkyr lifted him up and brought him down onto his shaft, making him yelp in surprise. It was a good thing Haewkyr had been so meticulous in preparing him, but then that was the whole reason he had done so. As fast as he could, Haewkyr grabbed Smairken’s robe and pulled it down tightly, before tucking it under his body, trapping it between him and the bed.

Then he calmly put his hands behind his head and shot Smairken a grin.

Of course Smiarken tried to pull away, but with his robe caught he couldn’t get off Haewkyr’s cock. He jerked and wriggled and tugged hard at the cloth, but Haewkyr had it pinned solid. Smiarken gave a squeal of frustration mixed with pleasure. He was most definitely caught, and Haewkyr only added to the whole thing by trying to look as calm and unflappable as possible. It wasn’t easy though, Smairken was jerking up and down on his cock like a madman. Every wriggle was driving him slowly insane. 

They couldn’t see what was going on beneath Smairken’s tightly pinned robes, but they could certainly feel it. Smiarken was sliding up and down only a little, but his frantic efforts were driving them both wild.

“Quite all right there, love?” Haewkyr panted, trying to keep calm with effort.

Smairken shot him a look of furious lust and kept wriggling, slowly working his robe free precious inch by precious inch, until he was no longer trapped. Finally reaching the point at which he could lift himself off Haewkyr’s cock, he instead drove himself down hard, abandoning all efforts to win this round. Haewkyr moaned and thrust upwards, and together they drove themselves to completion.

****

Thor was moving gently beneath Loki. It had taken a good few months for them to achieve this level of trust, and he was careful not to move too fast or too sharply.

Above him, Loki rocked back and forth, eyes half-lidded in pleasure, face flushed and utterly gorgeous.

Loki looked down at his lover. Thor. Thor defied description. He was so very, very *Thor*.

And he had such kissable lips.

Loki leaned down and kissed Thor solidly, enjoying the feel of it, enjoying the way Thor wrapped his arms around him. Loki was close, and he knew Thor was too.

Loki straightened up and rocked a little harder. He liked this part. As much as he hated the moment of penetration, being in *this* moment made it all worthwhile, because Thor was beneath him and Thor was about to make the silliest face in the nine realms, and all because of Loki.

A little more, a little further, and Thor almost went cross-eyed as he came, face flushed and mouth creased. Loki closed his eyes and surrendered to his own orgasm, holding the look on Thor’s face in his mind.

Did he ever make such a stupid-looking face? Loki thought afterwards as he lay on his side of the bed.

He still didn’t like to cuddle through the night, although he was now managing a few minutes after sex while they got their breath back.

Loki glanced over at Thor suspiciously. If he had made a face then Thor would know about it.

Thor caught the look and returned it. “What is it?” he asked, eyes sparkling.

“Do I make a funny face when I climax?” Loki asked bluntly.

Thor chuckled deeply. “Darling, you look like someone froze you halfway through a sneeze,” he said.

Loki scowled, making Thor laugh.

“You look like someone hit you over the head,” Loki countered.

“I like the way you look,” Thor said.

Loki tucked the covers more firmly around himself. 

“I like the way you look too,” he admitted. “Now go to sleep, the sun is well and truly up and we shouldn’t be awake.”

“That sounds wrong,” Thor said. But he did as he was told.


	87. Eighty Six Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many New Secrets

After staying with their grandparents for a month, Loki and Thor, with Haewkyr and Smairken in tow, headed off for the Fens where they would help celebrate the recent wedding, as well as meet up with Musleen and Daenceia for the final leg of their holiday.

Loki was riding out on Lightning, who had spent a rather happy month getting to know the mares Haewkyr had picked out for him. There were two of them who were now, Haewkyr assured Loki, in foal. They were cantering along behind the rest of the riders, each carrying a pack well within their capabilities. 

Haewkyr fussed over them quite a bit, which caused Loki to tease him good naturedly.

“You worry too much, Haewkyr, you need to relax and let them be. I can’t imagine what you’d be like as a father,” he said.

Haewkyr shrugged. “I hope one day to find out, but abandoned children are rare in Vanaheim; it’s so easy to prevent having an unwanted one,” he said in reply.

Loki shrugged. “Surely you can pay a woman to have your child?” he asked. “In Asgard there is a set fee and an existing contract.”

Haewkyr looked thoughtful. “We don’t do that here, we’d need to find someone willing, and work out all the details, I mean, she will be the child’s mother, surely access rights would have to be taken into consideration?”

“They are,” Loki said. “I can send you a copy of one of the contracts to have a look at if you’d like?”

Haewkyr looked ahead to where Smairken rode. Smairken always tried to ride ahead to avoid the dust, while having no problem kicking it up for other people.

“First I’ll need to discuss it; I’m not even sure Smairken wants children. He never said, and I just assumed when I fell in love with him that I’d be the perfect uncle to my nieces and nephews.”

Loki’s mind flashed to Smairken’s first wife, the woman who had been pregnant when she died by Loki’s hand. It *was* easy to avoid an unwanted pregnancy, you just had to abstain from sex during your fertile time, one month ever ten years or so wasn’t exactly a difficult thing to do. Chances were that in order for her to be pregnant, Smairken and his wife had been trying for a child.

“Somehow I don’t think he’ll be completely opposed to the idea,” Loki said. “I know that in a marriage of males who wish to have a child in Asgard, they can either choose who will donate the seed or provide a mixture and leave it up to chance.”

Haewkyr smiled gently. “I think I’d like a little Smairken running around, pissing off all the other children,” he said.

“You’ve gone soft,” Loki said. 

“Falling in love will do that to you,” Haewkyr answered easily.

Smairken chose that moment to turn around and glare at him in irritation.

“*Why* couldn’t we have taken the coach with Father?” he complained. “I’m in pain and we’ve barely gone a third of the way today.”

Haewkyr winked at Loki. “Some of us go soft,” he corrected, before urging his horse forward until it was level with Smairken’s.

“We are riding because we are young, full of life, able to heal from the worst of saddle sores, and because neither one of us actually owns a coach of our own. And to share with your Father and Aunty Frigga would be awfully cramped,” he pointed out cheerfully. “Besides, borrowing another one would be to leave *our* grandparents without, and what if they need it?”

Smairken’s face softened the moment Haewkyr said ‘our’, although he hastily covered it with a scowl.

“We’ll have to buy a coach then,” he said. “It won’t do for us to be without. My brothers will tease me and say I’ve married a poor farmer.”

“Well now that will never do,” Haewkyr said with a smile. “We don’t have time to buy a coach right now but I’ll get some sparkly paint in the capital and give your saddle a once-over, will that help do you think?”

Smairken rolled his eyes and turned his face back towards the road. “You are impossible,” he said.

Behind them, riding in their wake, Thor urged his mount closer to Loki’s.

“You know,” he said in a low voice, “I could fly us to the tavern and leave them to bring the horses?”

Loki grinned evilly. “What a marvellous idea,” he said.

****

Loki was in the bath when Haewkyr and Smairken arrived that evening. Haewkyr had roared with laughter as Thor and Loki had taken to the sky. Smairken had looked outraged, which only made the two of them laugh harder as they sped away.

The flight had been fun. Loki had wrapped his arms tightly around Thor and relaxed completely as the ground whizzed by below them. They had arrived several hours ahead of schedule and had even had time to go for a walk and explore the tiny township that supported the tavern by the roadside.

“Where are you two?!” Smairken’s voice rang out from downstairs. “I have your bags and I’m not afraid to set them alight!”

Loki chuckled and called out to him: “I’m not afraid either, no spell you have will destroy even a thread of either one of them!”

There was the sound of footsteps on the stairs followed by the door of their room being pushed open. 

“Fine,” Smairken said from the bedroom. “I’ll leave them here for you, shall I? Where are you?”

“In the bath,” Loki called out. “I recommend it, baths are very good for saddle sores!”

There was a growl from the bedroom, which made Loki bite him lip to keep from laughing.

“Where’s Prince Thor?” Smairken suddenly asked.

“I’m in the bath too,” Thor called out.

He and Loki were lying together in the warm water, just relaxing as they unwound from the day.

“Are the tubs in this place big enough for you both?” Smairken asked through the door.

“Oh yes,” Loki answered. “They’re lovely.”

There was the sound of footsteps leaving, followed by Smairken calling out: “Haewkyr! Come up to our room and have a bath with me!”

Loki and Thor both chuckled. Smairken was damn prickly but they could both see why Haewkyr loved him… sometimes.

Loki held out a hand and concentrated, warming the water by a few degrees. Behind him, Thor sighed in pleasure.

Loki tried to turn his head for a kiss, but winced as his long hair got caught.

“Ow, Thor, you’re lying on my hair,” he said, trying to pull it out.

“Sorry,” Thor said, shifting upwards to release it and causing a minor tidal wave to go through the bath.

Loki pulled his hair free and leaned up to kiss Thor on the lips.

“You’ll have to make it up to me,” he said.

“Oh? And how will I do that?” Thor asked with a smile.

Loki grinned. “Fly me again tomorrow so Smairken gets annoyed,” he answered.

Thor sighed dramatically. “Oh alright, just for *you*,” he said.

****

Their journey was uneventful, for the most part. Smairken stopped grumbling after the first day which made things more cheerful all around, and soon the capital was in sight.

“We should tell King Dorgen that we are here,” Loki said, “in case he wants to see us.”

“He’ll want to see you,” Haewkyr said. “He still writes to you, doesn’t he?”

Loki nodded. “All my Vanir friends write to me,” he said. 

Thor nodded. “He’s always answering mail, every day there’s another letter, and the number he had to send to tell them he was going away for three months and not to worry if he did not reply, it took him a week!”

“That is an exaggeration,” Loki said, reaching out and hitting Thor lighting on the arm. 

“Not by much,” Thor said. “Do you think he’ll want to have dinner with you? You didn’t pack anything fine enough for a royal dinner.”

“Dorgen won’t care,” Loki said and Smairken snorted in amusement at Thor’s worries.

They were just entering the main gate when they were stopped by a familiar face. Loki and Haewkyr both grinned at the sight of Prince Musleen on horseback. Loki noted too that the Prince was riding astride.

“Welcome Prince Thor, Prince Loki, Sir Haewkyr, Sir Smairken,” Musleen said. “I’ve come to escort you to the palace. Rooms have been set aside for you.”

“How did you know we were arriving today?” Haewkyr asked. “The only people who knew we had left either stayed behind or are in the coach, and they won’t be here for another day.”

Musleen just smiled one of his little smiles and gestured for them to ride with him. 

“We weren’t planning to stay at the palace,” Loki said. “We had arranged lodgings in the city, which I’m guessing you found out about, which is how you knew what day we’d be here?”

Musleen inclined his head in acknowledgement. “You used your own names, so it was hardly difficult,” he said. “Although if you *hadn’t* used your own names I would have dearly wanted to know why.”

“No secrets,” Loki said, holding up his hands. “I swear. We are here to see old friends and exotic places, nothing more.”

“Glad to hear it. Dorgen wants to have dinner with you tomorrow night, all of you, including Lord Kinndyr and Lady Frigga, if that’s alright.”

“But we have nothing to wear!” Smiarken said in an overdramatic tone.

Musleen raised an eyebrow. “I can lend you something?” he offered dryly.

“No thank you,” Smairken said quickly. “It’s not me who was worried about that sort of thing.”

Musleen sent an enquiring glance over the rest of the party before his eyes rested on Thor. Thor broke first and looked away.

“How does he always know?” Thor whispered to Loki as they rode through the streets.

Loki shrugged. “I think it’s an as yet undiscovered form of magic, myself,” he replied, only half joking.

****

They reached the palace in good time and were escorted up to their rooms. Loki and Thor had been assigned separate, but adjacent, bedrooms.

“Do you think they know we are lovers?” Thor asked Loki.

“Thor, everyone knows, but there’s knowing and there’s presuming, and the King of Vanaheim does not presume to know what the Crown Prince of Asgard and his brother and heir get up to when left to their own devices,” Loki said. “It’s standard diplomacy.”

Thor shrugged. “I suppose I just got used to having you next to me at night,” he said.

Loki shot him a glare. “What do you mean? I’ll still be next to you; just because I have my own room doesn’t mean I can’t invade yours.”

Thor grinned at him. “Oh really? What If I want to sleep peacefully?” he challenged.

“Then you can do it with me beside you or not at all,” Loki shot back, eyes dancing with mirth.

Even being in the palace of Vanaheim couldn’t bring his mood down. Every day of the last month had been wonderful. Spending all day and night with Thor had felt *right*, they had even managed to try and few new things together in the bedroom, with a fair amount of success.

Loki tugged on a rope to summon a servant. “Give me your laundry. We might as well have it washed while we’re here,” he said.

Thor obediently went to fetch his clothes as a panel by the fireplace slid back and a servant stepped out.

“Your Grace,” she greeted politely.

Loki gave her a nod and grabbed his things as Thor returned. 

“Will you take our things to be cleaned please?” he asked her. 

She gave them both a curtsy. “At once, your Grace, your Grace,” she said and took their clothes.

There was a loud knock on the door as she was leaving. Loki waved her off when she looked as though she would try to answer the door with her hands full.

“Don’t worry about it, I assure you I can open a door,” he said, giving her a smile.

It was Camtan. He was beaming in delight.

“It’s about time you got here,” he said to Loki. “Your hair is even longer now, how do you keep control of it?”

“With a great deal of commitment,” Loki said. “How are you, Camtan?”

Camtan gave him a hug. “Well, Sofftia and the children are well too. I wanted to know if you would be free tomorrow to go into the city, it’s been an age and I want to catch up before you run off again.”

It was then that he noticed Thor standing quietly in the room. Camtan raised an eyebrow, and for a moment Loki could really see the resemblance to his brother. “Unless you had other plans, of course Prince Thor you are invited as well.” Camtan added.

“We’d love to,” Loki answered for both of them. 

Camtan grinned hugely. “I’ve missed having you around, Loki, we’re going to have so much fun tomorrow. For now of course, you must come to dinner with Sofftia and me, Haewkyr and Smairken have already been invited, and Daenceia should be there if her work hasn’t held her up. She’s been trying to put everything into place before she and Musleen go with you to the Falls.”

Loki had to smile at Camtan’s enthusiasm, if not his effortless ability to fill the room with chatter.

“In that case I suppose we’d best be there,” he said. “I know Dorgen has asked us to dinner tomorrow.”

“He’s so *formal* sometimes,” Camtan said in a fake whiny tone. “Never turn into that, Loki, promise me? Good. I’ll see you in two hours, right now I have to read to Roaseia and Kiatyr before they go to bed.”

Loki waved him off, before turning back to face Thor. “I think the next few days are going to be busy,” he said, almost apologetically.

Thor shrugged. “They are your friends,” he said. “I expected them to want to see you. Prince Camtan is certainly energetic though.”

“He seems really happy,” Loki said. “Truly, and considering what he was like at the end of the war. I’m so glad to see it.”

“What was he like?” Thor asked, curious.

“Bitter,” Loki said. “And hurt. He’d lost so much, and thought he’d lost even more. He was angry and afraid of what he might turn into. But now it’s like the sun’s come out. He was like this when I first met him, centuries ago now.” Loki paused as a thought struck him. “It’s like Vanaheim is finally healing, and Camtan is a reflection.”

“It has been ten years since the war ended,” Thor pointed out, stepping forwards and putting his arms around Loki. “I would hope to see *some* signs of healing by now, although it can often take decades or even centuries for these things to truly pass.”

“I wasn’t talking about healing from the war,” Loki said softly into Thor’s shirt. “The war was an echo of a greater sin, a more terrible wound, it was like an infection left behind after the knife blade was finally removed.”

Thor held him quietly for a few minutes, just letting them breathe as the sun set outside.

“And you?” he asked at last. “Do you feel as though you are healing?”

He had always been afraid to ask, in case the answer was ‘no’, but Loki had come such a long way, he’d changed so much, he’d *faced* so much, Thor had to know.

Loki gave a sigh and snuggled a little closer against him. “I don’t know,” he said softly.

Above him, Thor winced, but dared not let his reaction show in his body, as Loki would feel it.

“You’ve come so far,” Thor said.

“I know that, but sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever go far enough,” Loki said.

Thor just held him tighter, trying to say with his arms what he didn’t have the words for.

“I love you,” he said, hoping that somehow all his feelings could be portrayed in such a short expression.

“I love you too,” Loki answered. “And because I love you, I’m never going to stop trying,” he promised, leaning up and kissing Thor on the lips.

****

Dinner was light-hearted and fun, and Loki spent most of his time catching up with Sofftia, Camtan and Daenceia while Thor sat politely beside him and tried to look interested in people and events he’d never been a part of.

It was a strange feeling knowing that your lover had a whole other life that had occurred concurrently with the torture that had almost driven him from you and his home, and that that life had not been completely terrible.

Thor was grateful, for it meant that Loki had found some comfort and solace during his time here, but it didn’t make the feeling of confusion lessen. 

Thankfully, Smairken was equally on the outside of the group, and also had apparently decided that talking to Thor was acceptable for the evening. He had been far more snappy than usual, according to Haewkyr, who had put it down to nerves about the upcoming celebrations at Lord Kinndyr’s estate.

“This meal is delicious,” Smairken commented.

“Indeed,” Thor agreed. “Although I don’t know what it is.”

For a moment he caught a look in Smairken’s eye that made him *certain* that he was about to be lied to, perhaps told that it was rat meat and that it was considered a rare delicacy in Vanaheim, but then Smairken gave a kind of mini shrug and said: “It’s Alpec, they’re quite nice, although this dish in particular makes good use of the spices to enhance the flavour.”

Thor tried some more. “I like it, I wonder what it would be like roasted on an open fire though.”

Smairken gave an annoyed sigh, attracting the attention of the rest of the table. “Why must I always be seated with buffoons?” he asked the empty air.

The table went silent as everyone nervously turned to Thor to see how the Crown Prince of Asgard was going to respond to being called a buffoon.

“Smairken, may I speak to you please?” Haewkyr broke in.

He had never sounded so angry before. Smairken rose from the table without bothering to pay respects to anyone and marched out. Haewkyr ducked a hasty bow to the table and ran out after him.

“What is going on with him?” Camtan asked. “He seemed so… well, not nice exactly, but certainly less rude the last time we saw him.”

“I have no idea,” Loki said. “He’s been up and down like crazy these past few days, one minute snapping at everyone and the other-“

He broke off as Thor blushed. The walls in some of those taverns had been very thin.

“He’s been quite affectionate to Haewkyr and lovely to everyone else,” Thor filled in.

Daenceia was staring at the closed door with narrowed eyes. “Oh has he now?” she said.

Thor saw her exchange looks with Loki, but they didn’t say anything else, and slowly the chatter returned to other things.

****

That night, Thor woke and reached out tapping Loki’s shoulder just as he was trying to slip off the bed.

Loki scowled. “I know I didn’t move the mattress,” he said.

“I felt your hair tickle me as you pulled away,” Thor said. “Where are you going?”

Loki sighed. “To see Daenceia, she has a theory about something and I want to go over it.”

“Is it strictly necessary to do so in the dead of night?” Thor asked.

Loki shrugged. “No, but we realised we wouldn’t have any time tomorrow, it won’t take long, go back to sleep.”

“Is it about Smairken?” Thor asked.

Loki smiled. “Maybe, you were paying close attention, weren’t you?”

“I always pay close attention when you are in the room,” Thor said, before struggling not to yawn.

“How romantic,” Loki commented dryly as Thor showed off the back of his throat. “I’ll be… back... soon.”

Thor chuckled as Loki surrendered to a yawn of his own.

“You set me off,” Loki complained immediately, slipping from the bed and pulling on a robe.

Thor chuckled and rolled over. “Don’t be long,” he said. “I can’t sleep properly without you anymore.”

Loki smiled at his back before heading out into the dark corridors of the palace.

****

Daenceia had a workroom adjacent to her and Musleen’s bedchambers. Loki met her there and she let him in with a smile.

“You’ve got yourself a rather nice-looking specimen of a man,” she said as soon as the door was closed. “I didn’t really get a chance to meet him last time, I was too busy at the palace when the trials were going on.”

“Thor is indeed magnificent,” Loki said seriously. “And mine.”

Daenceia laughed. “I’m not trying to take him from you, Loks, I have the light of my life sleeping in the next room.”

“Is he though?” Loki asked. “I was under the impression that he never sleeps.”

Daenceia giggled and held a finger to her lips. “You’re in on the secret now, Loks, no telling anyone, alright?”

Loki grinned at her. “Alright, now, what did you want to discuss with me?”

“I think Smairken is experimenting with magic,” Daenceia said. “I definitely picked up on some fluctuations while we were at dinner.”

Loki frowned. “I didn’t,” he said. 

“They were minor, the sort of thing you don’t see unless you are looking for them. These days, what with my spy work and everything, I tend to do it automatically,” Daenceia said. “But what I couldn’t work out was what he was doing. That’s not something you can pick up from a visual inspection.”

“No, and magical experimentation on yourself is tricky and most forbidden due to the consequences. He'd better know what he’s doing,” Loki said, concerned.

“I thought that you should know, that way we can both keep an eye on him as we travel. I don’t think he’s doing anything that would cause harm to anyone, I know he has a history but he does seem to have put all that behind him, but if he’s not careful he may do something accidently. Smairken is a better theory mage than practical one, he’s not all that powerful,” Daenceia said.

Loki nodded seriously. “Thank you for letting me know, should we tell Haewkyr?”

“I don’t know, you’re closer to him, what do you suggest?”

Loki thought for a minute. “He needs to know, but not right away. Let me talk to Smairken first and see if he’ll tell me what he’s up to. We shouldn’t have to sneak around like this, he’s a friend… well, he’s…”

“Smairken,” Daenceia supplied. “He defies explanation sometimes.”

Loki nodded. “Much like some other people I know,” he said. “I will talk to him tomorrow if I can, hopefully whatever it is can be sorted out before he does something that won’t be forgiven.”

“We’re all having dinner with Dorgen tomorrow night,” Daenceia said. “I hope he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t let him,” Loki said.

He bid Daenceia goodnight and returned to Thor’s bedroom, where Thor had fallen back to sleep while waiting for him.

Daenceia turned off the lights and returned to her bed.

“Good meeting?” Musleen asked her in the darkness.

“You’re getting better at faking sleep,” she replied. 

“Anything I should be concerned about?” Musleen asked her, wrapping his arms around her and giving her nose a kiss.

Daenceia returned it with one to his lips. “No, Loki will investigate and I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she said. “Now go to sleep for real, we have a long day planned tomorrow in the city.”

“We have many long days coming up,” Musleen said. “Are you sure you want to go?”

“I’m pregnant, not helpless,” Daenceia said, “and it’s early days at that. Stop worrying and get some sleep.”

He held her a little closer and tried to obey. Slowly, as the minutes ticked by, his gripped relaxed and his breathing evened out.

“Not even close to realistic,” Daenceia said flatly.

His grinned in the dark and pulled her close again. “I’ll work on it,” he promised.


	88. Eighty Seven Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Things We Do For Love

Loki held the crystal up to his eye and examined it critically. It was a good specimen, which the seller clearly knew. Loki wanted it, but he didn’t think the high price was worth it, and he didn’t want to haggle at the stall in clear view of the public.

Sometimes it sucked to be royalty.

“It’s lovely,” he said at last. “But I can get one of equal size and quality for a third of the price. I will pass today, thankyou.”

He put the crystal down, gave the seller a polite smile, and turned away.

The seller didn’t call him back, which was a shame. Nevertheless, Loki put it out of his mind and browsed the other stalls before him.

Thor was being so patient, he reflected. Nothing about this particular market interested him at all. But Loki and Daenceia, by unspoken agreement, had steered the company into the magical corner, and were now casually keeping an eye on Smairken as he too wandered from stall to stall.

He seemed to be in better spirits since last night, although he had still not apologised to Thor, or anyone, for disturbing their meal. He acted as though it hadn’t happened, much to Haewkyr’s embarrassment.

“I spoke to him last night,” Haewkyr confided in Loki, “but he refused to listen, and even kicked me out of the bedroom. I slept on the couch. This morning he’s been practically on top of me, I don’t understand it.”

Loki held his tongue. He wanted a chance to speak to Smairken alone to give him a chance to explain, and hopefully that chance would be coming up soon.

“Anyone hungry?” Camtan asked. “The food stalls are up this way.”

“I am,” Thor and Haewkyr said at the same time.

Smairken shot Haekwyr a smile. “You need to eat, to keep all those muscles,” he said softly, running his hand up Haewkyr’s arm.

Haewkyr couldn’t quite hide his annoyed look. Smairken’s mood swings were not leaving him feeling particularly flirty.

Loki saw his chance and took it.

“Why don’t you go on ahead and find a table, I want to look at that old bookshop, the one with the second hand section.”

Smairken’s head whipped around so fast Loki thought he was lucky not to hurt himself.

It paid to know another man’s weakness, and Smairken was a fool for second hand books. There was always a chance that the original owner had written their own notes inside, new spells or potions, anything. Loki had been waiting for them to pass the shop all morning.

“Come on, Smairken, let’s have a look while these two find us some food,” Loki said, wearing his most innocent smile.

“Don’t you want to go, Daenceia?” Camtan asked as she started to walk away with the rest of the group.

Daenceia shook her head. “I’m hungry, and I’m not as into research as those two,” she said. 

“Has Musleen finished packing for the two of you?” Camtan asked as they walked to the food stalls.

Daenceia nodded. “He’s gotten everything packed away nicely, I can’t wait to tell him that I want to add a few last minute things,” she said with a mischievous smile.

Loki watched them walk away. As soon as they were safely out of earshot he turned and walked to the bookshop, where Smairken had already found half a dozen old books that he was investigating earnestly.

“Anything good?” Loki asked as he came to stand beside where Smairken was sitting, surrounded by his finds.

“Not yet, this one’s just a textbook, it looks like it was owned by half a dozen students, but so far all I see are complaints in the margins, nothing even remotely innovative,” Smairken said with a slight tone of disgust.

“So not like the magic you’ve been doing?” Loki asked bluntly.

Smairken was better tackled head on, he dealt in sneaky actions and sly words, if you hinted at something he’d run rings around you, but hit him straight like a battering ram and he didn’t know how to deal with it. It was one of the reasons Haewkyr had been so successful in his seduction.

Sure enough, Smairken looked shocked, and before he had time to recover Loki had sat down beside him on the floor of the bookshop. “The fluctuations are slight, but I can see them clearly now that I know what I’m looking for,” Loki added. “What are you pulling, Smairken? Is it dangerous?”

“It’s nothing, a minor experiment,” Smairken snapped, instantly angry. “So shut up and drop it!”

Loki bit the inside of his cheek. He did not handle being yelled at, it pulled at every mischievous bone in his body, begging him to rile Smairken up just to see how high he would go.

Instead, for the sake of Haewkyr if nothing else, Loki tampered down his own temper and stayed calm.

“You called the crown prince of Asgard a buffoon, you’re snapping at everyone, embarrassing your husband, a man you apparently love, and you are playing around with magic of the self, which in a lot of cases is illegal, and *certainly* is supposed to be proposed to the leading mages of the Tower before you start, just in case you might violate the law. Don’t force me to tell them, Smairken, because I will if you don’t start talking, right now,” Loki said, holding Smairken’s eye the entire time he spoke.

Smairken looked absolutely furious. His eyes blazed with anger, and Loki began to wonder if they were about to have a fight that might necessitate calling in some city guards.

Then, to Loki’s complete and utter shock, Smairken began to cry.

“Um…” Loki said, unable to think of anything to say.

Smairken wasn’t crying a little either, his sobs attracted the attention of the shop owner, who peeked around the corner in concern. Loki frantically waved her back; if Smairken thought he had an audience then they’d be lucky if the building were left standing.

“What is it?” Loki asked him, trying to keep his voice gentle. He wished he had asked Daenceia to stay, he wasn’t *good* at tears. 

“I j-j-ust wanted t-to m-m-ake him happy!” Smairken sobbed.

“Who? Haewkyr? He’s head over heels in love with you!” Loki said. “Of course he’s happy!”

A suspicion of thought crept into his mind. “You haven’t put a love spell on him have you? Because I will kill you stone dead if you-“

“No you idiot! *He* pursued *me* remember?” Smairken snapped, his old fire burning though his less than characteristic tears. “But he didn’t think it through, I know he didn’t, he *doesn’t*, he’s stupid and romantic and he didn’t think about the future at all, and then he wanted to marry me and I said yes and we never spoke about it, he never said a word and neither did I, and I know he wanted to, I *see* him with them, I’m not blind, and he’d be so good at it!”

Smairken dissolved into more sobbing, leaving Loki nonplussed.

“Say that again?” he asked. “But with a lot more detail.”

Smairken looked up and gave Loki a glare that plainly said he thought Loki was the stupidest person in the realm, which was so close to his usual expression that Loki honestly didn’t mind, it might be a sign that Smairken was getting better.

“Haewkyr. Wants. Children.” Smairken said. “I’m. A. Man. So. Is. He. We. Cant. Have. Children. He didn’t think that through, I know he didn’t, and one day he’s going to be surrounded by his nieces and nephews and he’ll be sad. He won’t say anything, he won’t claim to regret me, but he *will* be sad… and I don’t want him to be sad.”

The last part was said softly, like a whispered prayer. Smairken hated showing weakness, he expressed his love by demanding attention like a cat. Loki could relate to that more than he liked to admit. He also had a strong suspicion that he knew what magic Smairken had been playing with.

“What have you been doing, Smairken? What have you done?” Loki asked, the look on his face making it clear that there was only one answer expected.

“I found a potion that can temporarily turn a man into a woman. Then a changed it to make it last longer and focus on the inside, on the important parts,” Smairken said.

“Are you pregnant?” Loki asked.

“Not yet,” Smairken said, “but I will be soon, as soon as I’ve perfected the potion,” he added smugly.

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose. Why did all his friends have to be so stubbornly determined to half kill themselves in pursuit of their goals.

“Did it not perhaps occur to you to tell your husband that you were experimenting with highly unstable magic?” Loki asked. “I was under the impression that married couples discussed major life-changing events with one another before going ahead with them.”

Smairken instantly looked defensive. “He’d try to talk me out of it because of how dangerous it is,” he said. “I can’t have that. I may well be the first man to carry a child, and there are thousands of couples out there who would long to do the same. Not just male couples either, imagine if you were both female and wanted a child of you both? One of you could change herself for a month while the other was fertile and then you could have your children.”

“That’s quite a noble thought,” Loki said.

“And then I’d be famous and have my own entry in the history books of the Tower and Vanaheim,” Smairken said smugly.

Loki’s mouth twitched, *that* was the Smairken they all knew.

“You still need to tell him, Smairken, you’ve been acting crazy this last week, angry at nothing one minute, as sweet as can be the next. And like it or not you owe Thor an apology,” Loki said.

Smairken pouted.

“You’re pouting,” Loki said bluntly.

“Of course I am,” Smairken snapped. “I called the man a buffoon, now I have to say… ugh… sorry.”

“Better get it over with, and on our journey to the Falls I want to see your workings,” Loki said. “I don’t care about the discovery, but if you are going to act like a spoiled brat because of this magic then there has to be a way to stablise you. I will help you try and find it.”

“Fine,” Smairken mumbled.

“And you will tell Haewkyr,” Loki said.

“No!”

“Yes, or I will, either way he has a right to know. How are you going to explain the addition of a vagina anyway?”

“I was going to tell him before it got to *that* stage,” Smairken protested.

“You can tell him now. If something goes wrong he needs to know what you were doing so that he can help you,” Loki said.

Smairken grumbled the entire way to the food stalls, but Loki remained unmoved. By the time they found the others Smairken was looking furious.

Haewkyr saw his expression as they approached and immediately looked concerned.

Smairken ignored him and went up to Thor.

“I’m sorry I called you a buffoon,” Smairken said.

He didn’t say anything further, like pointing out that it wasn’t earned, or that he, Smairken, had been adversely affected in some way at the time of saying it. He just stood there, waiting.

Thor took the high road. “Apology accepted, sit down and eat, we bought plenty.”

Smairken sat down next to Haewkyr, thumping down into his chair. The rest of the table politely ignored his behaviour.

Haewkyr looked unhappy.

Loki saw Smairken turn to him and say something quietly.

Haewkyr’s face changed from unhappy to shocked, before running through the full collection of concern, fear, horrified and dumbfounded before settling on nonplussed.

“What?!” he suddenly exclaimed, catching the attention of the rest of the table.

“I’m perfecting a potion to allow men to conceive and carry a child,” Smairken said calmly, with more than a trace of his old control. “It’s been playing merry hell with my hormones, and Loki has promised to help me look into ways of controlling the side effects.”

Haewkyr turned and shot Loki a look of utter helplessness. “Are you hearing this?!” he exclaimed.

Loki nodded. “I can’t stop him,” he said, “so I might as well help to try and keep things from blowing up.”

Haewkyr turned back to Smairken with a look of terror. “You can’t really blow up from this, can you?” he asked.

“No,” Loki said quickly, recognising the look of pure evil delight that had entered Smairken’s eye. “No matter what he tells you, he cannot blow himself up.”

“But it *is* dangerous?” Haewkyr clarified.

Loki was forced to nod. “It’s never been done before, there are any number of potential side effects,” he admitted.

“Like mood swings,” Camtan suggested.

Smairken had the grace to look guilty. “I also apologise for my behaviour, I was not myself, and I will endeavour to keep my temper in future,” he said.

Camtan and Sofftia exchanged looks of resignation as Daenceia gave Loki a smile.

“Is it legal?” Haewkyr asked.

“It is actually,” Daenceia said. “Changing one’s body is considered the right of the individual, if Smairken wants to experiment on himself then he can, as long as he’s not trying to create a hybrid with another species or control others then he’s fine. Of course there are rules about where and when you can experiment, as damage to others in the event of a side effect is punishable under law the same way any other form of attack is.”

I won’t hurt anyone,” Smairken said. “Not unless you count *feelings*.”

Haewkyr pulled him in close. “Feelings are important, my love, like how mine are completely overwhelmed by the knowledge that you want to do something so dangerous with even telling me first.”

Smairken shot him a look. “I want your baby,” he said, “and I always get what I want.” Then he turned and grabbed Haewkyr’s last leg of chicken. “I want this too,” he said and took a huge bite.

Haewkyr still didn’t look thrilled, but at least it was out in the open now, which made Loki relieved.

“Are you ever going to do something dangerous without telling me?” Thor asked him quietly.

Loki shrugged. “Maybe,” he admitted.

Thor’s arm tightened around him. “Please promise you won’t,” he said. “Loki, I don’t think I could stop you, I wouldn’t dare, but to not even tell me…” he broke off when he saw Loki’s face.

“I promise you, Thor, love of my life, that if I were ever to do something truly dangerous, I would tell you about it first,” Loki said. “Unless you weren’t there, in which case I hope you can trust me to know what I’m doing.”

Thor smiled. “Always,” he said and gave Loki a kiss.

“Must you? I’m feeling nauseous enough from the hormone changes,” Smairken called out, breaking into their perfect moment.

Loki rolled his eyes and turned to the food.

****

Lord Kinndyr and Lady Frigga arrived that afternoon in his carriage. Loki volunteered to ride out to the gate to greet them and escort them to the royal palace. Frigga saw him waiting and stuck her head out of the window to give him a wave.

Loki grinned at her and was struck by the sudden thought that he was happy. The last few centuries of his life had been so horrible that, quite without meaning to, he had trained himself to recognise and marvel at the brief moments in which he still felt true happiness.

Since coming home to Thor those moments had become much more frequent, but they still hit him suddenly every single time. Here in this moment, on horseback and with his mother beside him as he rode along, Loki was happy.

Back in the palace when he saw Thor walking down the steps to greet them he felt it again.

That afternoon as they walked through the gardens he felt it.

The evening as they ate dinner with King Dorgen and Loki watched as Frigga and Mulmyr chatted away he felt it again.

It was a strange holdover from those terrible days, but what it did mean was that Loki recognised when he was happier than he was sad, which was not something that most people were often able to do.

“Why are you smiling?” Thor asked him at dinner.

“I’m happy,” Loki said for his ears only. “Even here, in this place, I’m happy. It’s like it can’t be extinguished.”

Thor smiled in response. “I hope it never is,” he said.

“So is the flyer ready?” Dorgen asked Musleen, drawing Loki and Thor’s attention back to the table.

“Everything but the travel bags,” Musleen said. “The Falls are too far away to go overland, not inside of a month.”

“Is the flyer big enough for all the horses?” Loki asked. “I’d hate to leave Lightning behind.”

“Big enough for everything,” Mulseen promised. “Even Lord Kinndyr’s carriage.”

“You didn’t have to, my driver could have brought it up,” Lord Kinndyr said.

Musleen inclined his head. “There’s no reason not to if it fits,” he said. 

“And the celebrations?” Dorgen asked, turning to Haewkyr and Smairken. “I understand congratulations are in order?”

Haewkyr nodded pitifully as Smairken beamed. “We thought to do things quietly, your Grace, but our families had other plans.”

“And well we should,” Lord Kinndyr said. “We all love you, we should celebrate your love for each other. You are welcome to join us, your Grace, if you can be spared the time.”

Dorgen smiled but shook his head. “Sadly I cannot, there is too much to do right now. But I’m sure it will be a fantastic party.”

Loki was immediately curious. What was Dorgen doing that gave him too much to do? Lord Kinndyr was an old friend, Haewkyr and Smairken were both heroes of the resistance, Dorgen could take a flyer down for the day and return the next, what was going on?

Dorgen glanced over at Loki in that moment and his face was carefully blank.

Loki’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t say anything. 

****

Dorgen asked him to stay for a minute after dinner, Loki waved Thor off and took a glass of wine from a servant as he and Dorgen settled into a chair each by the fire.

“I thought it would be best to tell you in person that the first of those convicted for their part in Fomalen’s coup are to be released in a few months,” Dorgen said. “I know that they were only minor players, which is why they were only given a light sentence, but as a curtesy I still wanted to tell you myself.”

Loki nodded. “Anyone of note?” he asked.

“Woalfen’s husband, Ellumyr, we couldn’t find any evidence of serious involvement on his part, even the truth spell revealed that Musleen’s imprisonment had been kept from him. He mostly just enjoyed the luxuries that came with being married to Woalfen. The others were all servants of the traitorous nobles who were willing to serve or guards conscripted into Fomalen’s army who continued to fight even after it was revealed I was alive.”

Loki nodded. “Thank you for letting me know.”

“There is another thing,” Dorgen said. 

Loki tried not to look smug, he had *known* there’d been something else.

“I will be officially visiting Asgard in approximately six months’ time,” Dorgen said. “My first official diplomatic visit.”

Loki nodded slowly. “Thor will take good care of you, and Odin, well, he’s still a bloody effective and infuriating king,” he said.

Dorgen’s mouth twitched in amusement. “I was wondering, given that gifts are commonly exchanged at these things, whether you were planning to be present. I would hate to bring something that would highlight your absence, and I would be mortified to leave you out.”

Loki took a sip of his wine. He had been thinking more and more about taking up duties at the palace, despite the remaining Inky presence that still bothered him at times.

“I will be there,” he said, feeling as though his words were somehow far too heavy to be spoken out loud. 

But he had spoken, and Dorgen was nodding. “I’ll try to get you something nice, no trinkets,” he promised.

How Loki got through the rest of the meeting he didn’t know. He made polite chatter and managed to seem calm, but inside his mind was in turmoil.

He’d promised to be at the palace, officially, in six months’ time. He’d given his word to a king and a friend. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap.

He staggered to Thor’s door and pushed it open with knocking.

In an instant Thor was by his side. “Loki, what happened? Come and sit down.”

Loki allowed himself to be led to the couch and wrapped his arms tightly around Thor’s waist.

“I had to give an answer to Dorgen and I don’t know if it was the right one,” he said.

Thor’s expression immediately darkened but Loki held him tighter. “It wasn’t his fault,” he added. “It was a simple questions of diplomacy for him, but it meant far more to me.”

“What did he ask you?” Thor asked.

“If I’d be at the palace in six months when he comes for an official visit,” Loki said. “I told him I would be, that means I have to be there, near Odin, at the banquets, as a prince.”

Thor kissed him gently on the cheek. “It’s fine, Loki, just fine, if you aren’t ready by then you can write and let King Dorgen know, as you said, you are friends.”

Loki froze in Thor’s arms. Why hadn’t he thought of that?

“I’m so foolish,” he muttered.

“No,” Thor said instantly. “You are a lot of things, but foolish is not and never will be one of them. You were just caught out by the question.”

“I wish this didn’t keep happening,” Loki said. “I hate feeling like this.”

Thor just held him, silently giving support.

“We should get some sleep,” Loki said, “Tomorrow is a long day, even with the flyer.”

Thor nodded and pulled them both to their feet. “Yes we should,” he said. 

They changed and climbed into bed, lying side by side without touching. After a few minutes Loki turned to his side and faced Thor.

“I wish for a lot of things,” he said. “But right now I wish I had something to give you that didn’t belong to someone else first.”

It was the closet Loki ever came to referring to the old King. ‘Someone else’ was a bad person, a filthy *thing* that was responsible for a lot of damage.

“I have your heart do I not?” Thor said. 

“That’s always been yours,” Loki said. “But you know what I mean.”

It was something that had always bothered Loki, that his time with the old King had been so… thorough, that there was nothing they could try that Loki had not already experienced and hated.

Thor gave him a gentle smile. “I have you now, Loki, I don’t need anything more than what you choose to give me.”

Loki growled in frustration and rolled over in a huff. He wasn’t mad at Thor, but he was annoyed that he had to be this way, that his love couldn’t just be free, that he always felt like he had to hold back in fear.

“I suppose…” Thor said in the darkness.

“What?” Loki asked curiously.

Whatever it was, he knew he’d already tried it, but he was intrigued by what Thor wanted. Thor usually insisted that he didn’t want anything more than what he had.

“If you are determined for us to have something that is only ours… did he…? Did the… did he ever let you inside of him?” Thor asked.

There was a long, long silence in the bedroom.

“N…ooo, he didn’t,” Loki said at last. “But Thor, doing that, it’s not, uh, it’s not fun, it’s horrible actually, I wouldn’t want to do that to you.”

“Not according to Haewkyr,” Thor said. “He said it was important to use plenty of oil and to find the pleasure spot.”

There was more silence. It was the silence of Loki’s thoughts whirling around in his head faster enough to collide with one another.

“You spoke to Haewkyr,” he said at last, “about… anal sex.”

“You have said before that you wanted us to have something, it was the only thing I could think of,” Thor said. “So I asked someone who might know how to do it properly.”

“You want me to do that to you?” Loki confirmed.

“I want us to have something that is completely ours,” Thor said. “Yes, I want you to do this… to me, in me. I don’t know if I’ll like it, but Haewkyr said it was a lot of fun, and he seems like the sort of man who knows what fun should feel like.”

“When were you planning on us doing this?” Loki asked weakly.

“Whenever you want to, although first I have to buy the oil,” Thor said.

“And you’re sure?” Loki asked.

Thor turned to face him again and kissed him firmly on the mouth. “I want to feel you the way you feel me,” he said. “I am certain of this, if you are.”

Loki nodded slowly. “Will you buy the oil? I can if you want me to,” he offered.

“No, Haewkyr gave me the names of different types, I’ll do it,” Thor said. 

“And then I will have anal sex with you,” Loki said.

“And then we will make love,” Thor replied, “and it will be just for us.”


	89. Eighty Eight Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long Day and Sleepless Night

The morning was cold and fresh in a way that promised fine weather later. The party climbed aboard the flyer and strapped themselves in.

“I wish we could ride,” Smairken said. “It’s a great day for riding.”

Loki and Thor exchanged glances as Haewkyr carefully bit his tongue. Smairken had complained most of the way to the capital, but once again he appeared to be on an upswing in his mood. Loki waited until they were airborne and reached into his bag for Smairken’s notes. He’d promised to help after all.

Thor looked longingly out of the window. It was a beautiful day and he dearly wished to be flying under his own power. But it was impolite not to join the group. Instead he turned towards the centre of the flyer where Daenceia and Haewkyr were chatting about the view.

He caught Frigga’s eye and they shared a smile. Once the flyer had levelled out she undid her safety belt and came over. 

“Looking forward to the trip?” she asked with a smile.

“Very much so,” Thor answered. “I’ve been told so much about these places that I almost feel as though I’ve been before, but I know that the reality will be so much more impressive.”

Frigga smiled. “You know, I always wanted to show you boys my homeland when you were growing up, but diplomatic visits always seemed to be one way only.”

“A shame,” Thor said, but he said it softly, as Loki would no doubt disagree. And yet Thor felt that perhaps closer relations with Vanaheim at an earlier stage would have clued Odin in to the old King’s perversions, and thus would have allowed Loki to avoid his fate.

It still burned Thor up inside that he had been unable to undo what had been done. Even after more than a century he still wished he could have done more.

“This is pretty good,” Loki said under his breath, his eyes still glued to the notes in front of him. 

Thor gave him a fond look. “Is it?” he asked.

“Mmhmm,” Loki answered. “The original spell had some flaws, but Smairken’s done some good research here, I am concerned about the side effects though, I think he’s jumping ahead a little with the practical application. Hopefully he’s stopped taking his potion for now, I did ask him to.”

“He’s acting nicer,” Thor added quietly.

Loki nodded. “Hopefully that’s a good sign,” he said.

They stopped after four hours to allow the pilot to rest and to eat lunch. The flyer landing area wasn’t the prettiest spot, but the lunch made up for it. The palace staff had outdone themselves; fine meat pies and fresh salad, fruits and sweets.

Buried deep in the bag, Loki found a pork roll with gravy. He looked over at Daenceia who gave him a wink.

Musleen was in quiet conversation with Lord Kinndyr, while Smairken practically hung off Haewkyr as they sat in the clearing. Loki shuffled over to them.

“I’ve been reading your notes,” he said to Smairken. “It’s good work, I can see the intended applications, but I have a concern regarding the use of the mard bark, it’s known for being unstable when heated, and the potion requires careful heating to activate the other ingredients.”

Haewkyr immediately looked concerned. Smairken tightened his hug.

“I need it to maintain the change for an extended period of time, it’s the only thing that has worked so far,” he said. “The unstable nature is manageable with capsum powder, that’s why I added it in the final stage.”

“Have you stopped taking it in the meantime?” Loki asked.

Smairken scowled. “Yes,” he said darkly. 

“The capsum power was a good choice, but it’s not strong enough to completely ameliorate the effects. We need to find something stronger,” Loki said.

Smairken’s scowl deepened. “It was working just fine,” he said.

Haewkyr gave him a squeeze. “You know I love you, don’t you?” he asked.

Smairken nodded. 

“Good, remember that while I tell you to stop being so prissy,” Haewkyr added. “Loki’s trying to help, and if he thinks it needs something else then maybe it’s worth looking into.”

Smairken pulled away from him, anger lining his entire face, but then just as suddenly he relaxed and wrapped himself back around Haewkyr. “Fine,” he said into Haewkyr’s shirt. “I’ll look for something else.”

“I may already know of something,” Loki said. “On my travels, one of the places I went to was Midgard, quite early on actually. They had plenty of plants and stones and things I’d never encountered before, and in one place in particular there was one substance called whale-oil, from memory its properties were similar to capsum powder, but far stronger. After this trip I’ll see about taking a trip to Midgard and getting some.”

Smairken smiled a tiny, almost invisible smile. “Do you think it’ll really help?” he asked.

“I think so,” Loki said. “The rest of your workings look sound, amazingly so considering how little work has previously been done in this area. You have a real talent for potion making.”

To his surprise, Smairken blushed like a sunset. Loki put it down to the residual effects of the potion. He was relieved that Smairken had stopped taking it for now.

****

They continued one in the afternoon, flying high above the land and watching it zip along below them. Flight travel was rarely used, and as such no previsions were made for entertainment. Several of the company fell asleep as the others tried to keep themselves occupied with books and conversation.

Loki had finished his book and was watching Thor as he slept. Thor was leaning against the window with his head resting against the glass. After a minute of watching him closely, Loki gently shuffled over a little.

Thor did not move.

Loki shuffled a little more, until their thighs were touching.

Thor made a tiny sound but otherwise didn’t react.

Loki waited for a few minutes, then carefully leaned over and rested lightly against Thor’s body.

Thor sighed and smiled in his sleep.

Loki waited until the angle caused his back to start hurting, then slowly let himself rest fully against Thor’s body.

It wasn’t so bad, this cuddling thing. He’d always hated it, but then he’d hated so many things that he now enjoyed with Thor.

Satisfied that this wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever endured, Loki let his eyes close.

When he woke a few hours later, it was to discover that Thor had woken before him, and was sitting very still in the same position, so as not to wake him.

Loki sat up quickly.

“How did you sleep?” he asked.

“Very well,” Thor said. “I dreamed that I was being covered by a blanket that was made of the stars, and then woke to find I had a better one.”

Loki swatted him lightly on the arm. “Bad poetry, I knew cuddling could only lead to horror,” he muttered.

Thor looked over at him quickly, but Loki was smiling.

****

They arrived at Lord Kinddyr’s lands well after sunset. Everyone looked down on the manor with relief as the flyer came in to land just outside the walls on the nearby horse run. It was the only flat surface large enough that was also close by. 

Lord Kinndyr gave everyone a big smile. “Dinner and bed, I think,” he said to the group at large. “Whatever your plans are, you can start them in the morning.”

“The only thing I plan to do is sleep,” Smairken said. “Come on, Haewkyr, let’s find my old bedroom.”

“Can’t I have dinner first?” Haewkyr asked as he was dragged out of the door.

Loki and Thor exchanged glances. “Somehow I doubt Smairken plans to sleep,” Thor muttered, making Loki chuckle. Smairken had swung back around to full affectionate-kitty level of nice and had remained there for the whole afternoon and evening.

The rest of the party were shown to their rooms by the servants. Loki noted with a smile that once again no one had ‘presumed’, and as such he and Thor had their own rooms.

They were across the hall from one another, which was worse than the palace, but not as bad as it could have been.

Dinner was brought to their rooms, and after his was left for him Loki picked up the tray and relocated to Thor’s room.

“They have a completely different ecosystem in the west,” he said, setting down his tray and making himself comfortable at Thor’s table. “So all new vegetables.”

Thor was eyeing some of them suspiciously. “Why is that one grey?” he asked.

Loki peered at it. “It’s a steamed forrot, it’s fine, quite bland, good to eat with the red thing beside it, which is a disp, and is very spicy.”

Thor tried both with the air of a fussy toddler. Loki rolled his eyes. “You’d better not pull that face tomorrow at dinner in the hall,” he said.

Thor shrugged. “I’ve had many years practicing my diplomatic face,” he said. “I’m sure it won’t be a problem.”

“Did you notice how Musleen was acting earlier?” Loki asked as they ate.

Thor frowned. “No, what was he doing?”

“He was very *attentive* to Daenceia, making sure she didn’t feel sick on the flyer, checking that she’d eaten enough, and he carried her day-bag for her, he never does that, she’s got too many things in it that she likes to keep near her,” Loki said.

Thor shrugged. “Maybe he’s just being an attentive husband,” he suggested.

Loki shook his head. “I know he loves her, believe me, if anyone should know it’s me, but he’s always respected her independence, watching him fuss is suspicious.” 

“I’m sure that if there was a reason for it they’d tell you, assuming that they want you to know,” Thor said.

Loki’s face changed into one of realisation.

“What?” Thor asked.

Loki grinned. “She’s pregnant,” he said. “It’s the only explanation.”

Thor sighed heavily. “You’ve had babies on your mind since Smairken’s experiment came to light, are you sure you’re not just projecting?” he asked, trying to hide his amusement.

Loki shook his head stubbornly. “She’s pregnant and Musleen is doing exactly what I always thought he’d do: panic, but quietly. We’ll hear an announcement soon, I’m sure of it,” he said.

“I will await it with baited breath,” Thor said dryly, earning himself a look from Loki.

“You’ll see,” Loki promised. “You’ll see.”

****

Daenceia was lying down on the bed trying to justify why she hadn’t moved in an hour. Her husband had brought her the dinner tray and cleaned it away, showered, changed for bed, and was now rubbing her legs with studious dedication.

It felt amazing. 

The flight had been long and her legs *ached*, far more than she thought they would.

“I should get ready for bed,” she said, without much enthusiasm.

“You’re muscles are still tight here, just relax and I’ll work out the last of the knots,” Musleen replied.

“That feels amazing,” Daenceia said.

Her reply was a smile, aimed at her feet. Musleen was not good at receiving praise, even from his own wife. He preferred the satisfaction of a job well done.

When Daenceia fell asleep a few minutes later, he smiled a much deeper smile. Success.

He gently covered her with a blanket and slipped out of the room to go and meet up with Sir Miarthyr, Lord Kinndyr’s eldest son.

Sir Miathyr was waiting for him in his office, a small room full of papers and books on land management in the fens. He was working hard so that his father could enjoy a semi-retirement, but did not resent the position. He had also agreed to collect messages from Musleen’s vast spy network, and deliver them to the spymaster while he was on his travels.

“Four letter from the outer west, your Grace,” he said, handing them over. “I’ve also heard via my own sources that the release of the first of Fomalen’s co-conspirators has caused unrest among some of those who fought. It’s only been ten years after all.”

“I know, but they were minor players with minor crimes to their names, we’ll have to keep watch over them for their own sake, as well as the rest of Vanaheim’s,” Musleen said calmly. “The major players won’t ever be released, or if they do they will be crumbling with age. Hopefully the first lot will have had a taste of prison and decided to take steps never to return.”

“I hope so too, it’s never too late to reform,” Miarthyr said.

Musleen glanced up at him. “Your brother has indeed turned out to be an… interesting citizen, I will stop short at calling him a model one, but he’s on the right side of the law at least, which is what I care about.”

“He’s changed a lot,” Miarthyr said. “I’m so glad for it too, he was worrying the whole family for a long time.”

“I don’t think he’s stopped doing that, has he? What with the magical pregnancy attempts,” Musleen said.

Miarthyr’s face changed to an expression of shock.

“He did *not* tell me that,” he said.

Musleen calmly placed the letters into his pocket. “Perhaps he meant to do so in the morning,” he suggested diplomatically.

“Will he never just be normal? Even for a minute?” Miarthyr appeared to ask the universe.

“If he did the shock might kill you,” Musleen commented dryly. “Thank you for the letters, I’ll read them in my rooms.”

He bid Miarthyr good night and hastened back. 

Daenceia was still asleep. He settled beside her and read over the letters; nothing much of note, certainly nothing to worry about. Relieved, he glanced over with fondness at his wife, before turning off the lights and settling down to sleep.

****

Loki lay beside Thor and stared at the ceiling. All day he’d been sitting still trying not to be bored and now that it was time to sleep he found he was wide awake.

“Are you still awake?” he whispered softly.

“I am,” Thor replied.

“I can’t sleep.”

“It was our nap on the flyer, I’m sure of it,” Thor responded.

Loki rolled a little closer to him and laid a hand on his arm. “Do you want to…” he trailed off, letting his hand finish the thought for him as he trailed ot down the length of Thor’s body.

Thor turned to face him with a grin. “I have heard that exercise is a good way to tire yourself out,” he said.

They pressed together in the bed, sharing a deep kiss. For a few minutes that was all they did, just kissing, sharing each other, enjoying the way it made them tingle across their skin. Then Loki reached towards the waistband of Thor’s night-pants and slipped his hand inside.

Thor growled a little under his breath and bucked into Loki’s hand. Loki grinned against Thor’s mouth and began to massage Thor gently, eliciting further growls and a few moans.

After a minute, Loki withdrew his hand and sat up, pulling his own clothes off and sitting naked in the semi-darkness in front of Thor.

“Can I touch you?” Thor asked, panting slightly.

“Yes,” Loki said.

Thor reached forward gently and slipped his fingers between Loki’s legs. He stroked Loki’s penis gently before cupping and fondling the balls beneath. Loki’s breathing became more laboured as he relaxed into the pleasure of it. Thor waited until he was sure Loki had completely relaxed before sliding his fingers lower and probing gently at the folds of Loki’s vagina.

Loki moaned and shifted his position to allow Thor better access. This was relatively new to them both. They’d only tried Thor being allowed to touch Loki intimately with his hands recently. Their first attempt had been a cautious success, and now they were growing used to the new sensation and rhythm. 

Thor probed gently deeper, keeping watch for any sign that Loki might become distressed. It didn’t happen, and Loki instead reached down and took Thor’s hand, holding it steady while he rocked himself on Thor’s fingers.

Thor wasn’t sure what to do. He held his fingers still for a moment while Loki moved, but then he couldn’t resist wriggling them just a little as Loki came down.

Loki yelped and pulled away, causing Thor to cringe in horror. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry,” he babbled. “Loki, I’m sorry I didn’t meant to startle you, are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

Loki held a hand up to Thor’s mouth, silencing him.

“Relax,” he said, breathing hard. “It wasn’t painful, I didn’t have a bad memory, I just… I wasn’t expecting it to tickle, and I jumped.”

For a second there was an embarrassed silence, then Thor started to chuckle in relief. After a second, Loki joined in.

“I’m sorry I jumped like that, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.

“I thought I’d hurt you, I didn’t meant to do it without asking, it just felt so right at the time,” Thor said.

“Come here and make love to me,” Loki said. “We can laugh about this in the morning.”

Relief pouring off him like rain, Thor was only too happy to oblige.

****

Smairken fell down beside Haewkyr for the third time and lay panting heavily on the bed.

“How is this not better than dinner?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Haewkyr said thoughtfully through pants of his own. “I’m pretty sure dinner comes with wine.”

Smairken sat up. “How am I not better than wine?” he challenged immediately.

Haewkyr laughed. “You are a thousand times better than wine,” he said, pulling Smairken down on top of him. “A million times better, a million-million times better.”

“Good. Remember that,” Smairken said, kissing Haewkyr’s mouth sensuously. “Because I have something I need to tell you.”

“And what is that?” Haewkyr asked him.

Smairken looked at him straight in the eye. “The potion worked. I’m pregnant.”

The scream echoed down the hall, through the towers and out as far as the stables.

“LOKI!!!!!!!!!!!”


	90. Eighty Nine Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the Nick of Time

“We need to head to Midgard, now,” Loki said.

He was seated in Haewkyr and Smairken’s chambers along with Thor, Lord Kinndyr, Frigga, Sir Miarthyr, Musleen and Daenceia. Haewkyr had woken almost the entire manor with his yelling, and as they were all party to the reason, they had all been invited inside.

Smairken sat calmly beside Haewkyr, looking faintly smug. Haewkyr looked like a man completely out of his depth.

“Right now?” he asked, turning to Thor. “Can we? Do we need to request permission from King Odin?”

Thor shrugged. “Emergency missions run on their own rules,” he said. “I’m the crown prince, I say we can go.”

Loki turned to Musleen. “I’ll have to open a portal to get us there and back, as the highest ranking member of the royal family, do I have your permission?”

It was a formality, no one expected Musleen refuse, and he did not disappoint them. 

“Of course you may,” he said. “But I would like to go with you.”

“And me,” Daenceia said.

Musleen shot her a look of concern.

“Aren’t you feeling tired?” he asked. “You said you were feeling tired.”

“It Midgard, I’m not missing it,” Daenceia said firmly.

Musleen looked unhappy but didn’t argue. Loki shot Thor a knowing look which made him bite his lip and shake his head slightly. He still wasn’t convinced.

Smairken looked annoyed. “Why are you all so worried? The potion did exactly what it was meant to, I feel fine, I will just keep taking it.”

“The potion is good, but it could be better, it could be more stable, Smairken you know that potion masters tinker with their recipes all the time, I just think it would be better for us to improve it,” Loki said.

Smairken rolled his eyes. “*I’m* going to bed, you do what you like,” he said, getting up and sauntering away from them.

“I’m staying here,” Miarthyr said. “I need to have a conversation with my sibling.”

Haewkyr gave Loki a pleading look. “You said now, can we go *now*?” he asked.

Loki nodded. “I’m ready if everyone else is,” he said. “Just let me draw the right runes.”

The party waited anxiously for Loki to finish drawing, while the sound of Smairken *definitely going to bed, falling asleep, and not worrying AT ALL* came from the bedroom behind them.

Finally Loki was ready. He stood beside Thor, with Haewkyr, Musleen and Daenceia behind them.

“I’ve located some whale oil, we should drop in, get some as fast as we can, and get out again without disturbing anyone,” he said.

“Let’s go,” Haewkyr said, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Loki activated the spell and the portal opened. They walked through quickly, letting it close behind them as they stepped out onto a wide street.

“Broadway,” Musleen said. “This is where we were the last time we were here, ten years ago.”

Loki nodded. “It was easier to start at a known point and search outward than try to cover the whole planet. We need to go… this way.”

They set off down the dark and empty street, following Loki’s lead as he tracked the whale oil with magic.

“There’s a large amount in this building here,” he said as they stopped outside of it. “They won’t miss some if we take it.”

“Is there any way to pay for it?” Musleen, ever the lawman, asked.

Loki shrugged. “I’d rather not wait until the sun rises, and if we can avoid being seen it’s for the best. Mortals are insane.”

“Do you have any coins on you?” Daenceia asked. “You could leave them a gold coin, the metal is valuable, even if they cannot recognise the currency.”

Musleen dug into his pockets as Loki whispered magic through the door and caused the lock to turn.

They headed inside, walking through the offices at the front and out to the store area at the back.

“There is it,” Loki said. “Barrels of it.”

“How much do we need?” Thor asked.

“He’s going to be taking the potion for nine to ten more months, we’ll need a fair amount,” Loki said.

Haewkyr nodded curtly. “Right,” he said.

He stepped forward and hoisted a barrel up onto his shoulders, holding it there easily.

“Will this do, or do we need more?” he asked.

Thor hoisted another barrel. “Better to be safe,” he said, earning himself a grin from Haewkyr.

Musleen conscientiously placed three large gold coins on the floor where the barrels had been.

“Great, let’s get out of here,” Loki said.

“It’s a pity it’s night, I would love to see how far the mortals have come,” Daenceia said. “They were building wooden houses the last time I was here, and with only one room too.”

“Hold it!” said an unfamiliar voice.

The party turned and stared into the light of a night guard, who was holding a lamp and looking astonished at their appearance.

“Ah,” Loki said. “We’re just leaving, and so should you.”

“You stop right there,” the guard repeated, grabbing his whistle, “thieving scum.”

Musleen pointed at the gold coins on the ground. “Not so. Now move, we have to get home,” he said calmly.

The guard tried to stop him, but Musleen calmly pushed the man aside like he was made of paper and headed out the door. The others followed him quickly, ignoring the man’s look of shock at how easily he’d been overpowered.

“You mighty warrior, you,” Loki said in an undertone as they headed quickly back to where they’d come from.

Musleen pulled a face. “I just want this over with quickly,” he said.

“So Daenceia can get some rest for her and the baby?” Loki suggested innocently.

Musleen blushed from his neck to his hairline.

“She didn’t tell me,” Loki said smugly, “*You* gave it away. Frankly, you’re losing your edge.”

Musleen narrowed his eyes and shot Loki a look.

“We’ll see about that,” he muttered.

****

Back at the warehouse, the guard picked up his lamp and walked across to where the coins lay, the pure, gold, coins.

Mouth dry, he put the lamp down and picked them up, turning them over and over in fascination and wonder. He’d never seen so much pure gold in his life. He bit it to be sure. It dented! It was real!

Job forgotten, he whirled around and ran out of the warehouse. By morning he’d be on a train to another city and a life of luxury.

Left sitting on the floor by the barrels, the lamp burned steadily.

**** 

“Is that smoke?” Daenceia asked, sniffing the air.

The group turned and looked back the way they had come. There was a glow in the distance, from roughly where they had been.

“We didn’t use any fire,” Loki said. “It must be a coincidence.”

He opened the portal with a wave of his hand, and the group stepped back through.

****

The others went to bed, but Loki’s work was nowhere near complete. He had to brew up Smairken’s potion with the new addition. Lord Kinndyr had shown him to the manor’s seidr workrooms, and now he chopped and brewed and stirred as the hours ticked by.

Thor stayed up to keep him company, although he fell asleep in his chair an hour into the process. Loki was secretly glad. He loved Thor dearly and appreciated the thought, but when it came to seidr, Loki worked better alone.

The sun was rising as he finally completed the last step. The potion stank of fish and had a horrible grey colour, but Loki was confident that it would be more effective and stable.

Exhausted, he sank down into a chair and let his head rest back. He only planned to sit for a minute, but sleep claimed him almost immediately.

An hour later, Frigga brought in a tray of breakfast for her two boys. She could have asked the servants to do it, but she wanted to do it herself.

She smiled fondly at them both. Thor was drooling slightly and Loki was scratching the arm of the chair in his sleep. He’d done that as a babe too, she recalled fondly. It had seemed so odd back then they she’d visited the library to look up whether it was a common Jotun trait.

Odin had been upset with her for doing so, he’d wanted complete secrecy regarding Loki’s heritage, and even a trip to the library was seen by him as being too careless.

It had been beneficial though. Jotun did scratch in their sleep. It caused their parents and later their partners to curl around them and keep them protected at night in the dark and cold.

Frigga set the tray down and looked around for a blanket. They were in short supply in the seidr workroom, so instead she sat on the opposite arm of the chair and curled herself around her boy.

Loki stopped scratching as soon as he felt her press against his back. It was a shame that he didn’t like to be held, Frigga reflected sadly, because his instincts were the complete opposite, they were practically crying out for the comfort a hug could bring.

But that was the price he’d paid for Odin’s mistake. A thousand times over Frigga wished she’d done things differently, wished she had stood up to Odin earlier, wished she had taken her boy and run away with him, kept him safe.

Loki had forgiven her, but she would never forgive herself.

The smell of breakfast woke Thor from his slumber and he looked around guiltily. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. His gaze found Loki and Frigga, and she gave him a smile and held a finger to her lips.

Thor frowned immediately. Loki *hated* to be held while he slept. He would be furious when he woke up.

Thor motioned silently for Frigga to move away. She shook her head and pointed at breakfast.

The silent deal was struck. Thor ate quickly, knowing that Frigga would leave Loki’s side once he was done.

She kept her end of the bargain, but did not look happy about it.

“He was scratching in his sleep,” she said to Thor quietly. 

“He always does that,” Thor said. “I covered a log in carpet for him to scratch at home so that he stops wrecking his sheets.”

“Jotun hold one another at night,” Frigga said. “That’s what he’s searching for.”

Thor shook his head. “Not until he tells me it’s alright. I’m not doing that to him if it makes him uncomfortable.”

“I’m awake,” Loki said, attracting their attention.

They turned to face him.

“What were you arguing about?” Loki asked, spying breakfast and helping himself.

“Mother was holding you in your sleep,” Thor said. “I told her not to do that because you don’t like it.”

Loki looked thoughtful. “I didn’t hate it on the flyer,” he said at last. “Maybe it’s not so bad.”

Thor looked delighted.

“Maybe,” Loki repeated cautiously. “Now let me check on my potion. I want Smairken to start taking it immediately.”

There was the sound of running feet, followed by the door crashing open, making them all jump.

“Smairken’s unwell,” Miarthyr shouted. “Is the potion ready? He’s in a lot of pain, I think the last dose didn’t take as it should!”

Loki scooped up a measure of the potion in a vial and ran after Miarthyr to Smairken’s room.

Smairken was pale and sweating badly. Pain was visible on his face as he lay on the bed, clutching his stomach.

“You better be right about that bloody whale oil,” he gasped as Loki ran into the room.

Haewkyr looked up at Loki with pleading eyes.

“Is it ready?” he asked in a whisper, as if he was afraid to disturb anything.

Loki held out the vial. “Drink it,” he said. “We won’t know for sure if it will work but it won’t kill you, so try it.”

Smairken downed it in a single gulp, then almost immediately brought it back up. He managed to keep it down as Loki handed him a glass of water.

“It’s disgusting!” he complained.

“Trust you to complain about the taste of something while your insides try to become your outsides!” Haewkyr said.

Smairken managed, despite the pain, to roll his eyes and give Haewkyr a condescending look. “My inside are *not* trying to get out,” he said. “My uterus is trying to shrink in on itself and vanish, reabsorbing our baby with it! Now hold my hand, I want to crush something and I can’t get up yet.”

It was a tense hour as Smairken battled the pain and his own insides, but eventually things eased and a careful examination from the Kinndyr family healer revealed that the baby was safe.

“You need to fix the taste,” Smairken said to Loki. “How can I expect people to drink that? It’s completely unmarketable!”

“How about you get yourself a healthy baby first, then we can worry about tweaking it,” Loki commented dryly as he left the room.

****

Musleen was brooding. He was also reading reports, but mostly he was brooding.

“What’s the matter?” Daenceia asked him as she sipped her tea.

“I’m losing my edge,” Musleen said. “Loki knows you’re pregnant, you didn’t tell him by any chance?”

Daenceia frowned. “No, we weren’t going to tell anyone until the fourth month, how did he know?”

Musleen pouted. “He said I gave it away with the way I was acting.”

Daenceia smiled fondly. “Don’t feel bad, Loki is incredibly perceptive.”

“But I could always fool him,” Musleen said. “I’ve had years more experience at subterfuge, and I know him as well as he knows me. Impending fatherhood has ruined my edge.”

“No one else appears to have guessed,” Daenceia pointed out. “Maybe Loki has improved, he’s travelled, met lots of people, had lots of experiences, perhaps he picked up a few tricks along the way? Try not to worry about it.”

Musleen smiled at her. She made his whole world better just by being in it.

“I’ll try,” he promised.

‘To figure out how he did it and how to beat him,’ he added silently inside his own head.

Loki was destined to be the queen of Asgard, and his natural talents practically guaranteed that one day he would be taking over the Aesir spy network. When that happened, despite being friends, Musleen was determined not to be beaten at his own game, in his own arena.

A man had his pride after all.

****

Two weeks after arriving at Lord Kinndyr’s estates, the newly wedded couple were thrown a wonderland party to celebrate their union. It was held in the Maze, with the doorway to the underground town of Haven open to all, and the whole Maze was lit up with magic and entertainment.

Smairken sat in one of the many chairs set out around the place and preened like a peacock. He had his man, he had a child on the way (no thanks to that foul whale oil that was, unfortunately, keeping everything from ending in disaster) and he had his family around him, with the added bonus that no one was watching him warily to see if he’d prank them.

What fools they were, there was spice powder in the punch.

It was only a little thing, but after turning to the side of the law abiding, Smairken felt as though he needed to keep his hand in *somehow*.

Haewkyr hadn’t left his side all evening. Normally Smairken would complain about being smothered, but right now he was feeling extremely clingy. Haewkyr had tried to leave his sight earlier and Smairken had immediately put a stop to it. So what if the man needed to pee, they could do that *together*.

****

Loki wandered through the Maze with Thor on his arm. They had taken a detour down into Haven while Loki had told Thor all about the war and the base that had been set up there. Thor was more than impressed.

“I knew you had a part in the battles but I never realised how much their success depended on you,” he said. 

Loki waved off the praise. “Despite everything, this land had become my home, it was only right to fight for it, especially as it had just gotten itself free from one tyrant, it didn’t need another.”

“Even so,” Thor said. “I should have heard all your stories by now.”

“We’re still working our way through my travels,” Loki pointed out. “I was gone for more than a century after all. I haven’t even gotten to Sigyn yet.”

Thor looked shocked. “Who’s Sigyn?” he asked.

Loki laughed. “A friend. We travelled together for twenty years or so, she was a good fighter and an avid learner of seidr. I promised to invite her for a visit one day. I’ll have to do so, I’ve been settled for more than long enough.”

Thor relaxed beside him, able once again to enjoy the party.

“There is something I have to tell you,” Loki said. “My fertile time started today, we can’t be together for the next month.”

Thor nodded seriously. “May I make a small correction to that statement?” he asked. “Because it seems to me that this would be a good time to try that thing we discussed. I’ve bought the oil.”

Loki blinked in surprise. “You mean it?” he confirmed. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I mean it,” Thor said determinedly. “And you won’t hurt me. Haewkyr said it didn’t hurt if you did it properly.”

“You do realise I don’t know how to do it?” Loki said. “I don’t want to hurt you by accident.”

“That sounds like a familiar tune,” Thor said in a teasing tone. “Oh yes, that’s the one I was singing not too long ago. Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.”

Nervous, and a little bit excited, Loki smiled and gave Thor’s arm a squeeze.

“Can you… can you try holding me at night afterwards? If you feel alright?” he asked.

“I can and I will,” Thor said, grinning. “Both will be my honour.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Great New York Fire of 1845 started in a store for whale oil...uh...oops.
> 
> Although when you think about it, this sets the precedent of New York getting destroyed every time Thor and Loki visit. :P


	91. Ninety Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Unusual Proposal

They planned it for the next night. Like top strategists they worked out every movement to ensure that they would be left alone. They ate dinner early with their friends, Loki checked on the status of Smairken in conjunction with the healer and some casual conversation about interesting topics until they could reasonably and politely leave to be alone.

There were no planned rides the next day due to rain. The clouds had rolled in that afternoon, puzzling the local weather watchers, because it hadn’t been expected, but Thor assured everyone that he had nothing to do with it. 

“A freak change of wind,” was all he said, waving them off. “I’m sure it’ll pass by the day after tomorrow.”

After that all it took was an early night, and finally they were alone in Thor’s room. 

“Are you sure about this?” Loki asked again. “I’m not sure about this.”

Thor looked up at him with concern. “We won’t do it if you don’t want to, Loki, but please don’t change your mind because of me, I am ready to do this, and I want to do it with you.”

Loki pulled his outer clothes off slowly and climbed onto the bed. Thor had already stripped and placed the oil where Loki could reach it.

“Come here,” Thor said softly. “I want to kiss you.”

Loki moved forward and lay on top of Thor, pressing their lips together. Thor returned his kiss enthusiastically, and for a moment Loki was swept away on a tide of lust.

Being fertile really did make a difference. He was *aroused*, more so than in the normal way, everything seemed to happen faster, everything felt more sensitive. For a second he was really tempted to tell Thor to just make love to him the normal way, consequences be damned, but he managed to keep that particular request from passing his lips.

The same lips Thor was passionately kissing, as outside the sound of their illicit rain sounded on the window panes.

After a while, Thor rolled them onto their sides and broke the kiss, reaching down to grab the oil and pressing it into Loki’s hand.

“I’m ready,” he said and sat up.

Loki followed him, sitting up nervously as Thor turned and lay back down on his stomach.

He did it so easily, so trustingly, and all Loki could think about was how much he was afraid he’d hurt him.

Well, there were a few things that could make it easier. Loki wished he didn’t know them, but now was not the time for dwelling. He picked up a pillow and nudged it against Thor’s side.

“Here, lie on this, it’ll… it’ll make things easier,” he said.

Thor took the pillow and placed it beneath him, raising his arse a little into the air.

“Like this?” he asked.

“Yes,” Loki said, his mouth had gone dry suddenly. He realised that he wasn’t used to this, he wasn’t used to being in total control, of being on the *giving* end of sex.

He went to move forward a little and winced as he accidently knelt on his hair. With a scowl of frustration he pulled it free and flung it behind him.

“Okay, I’m going to… I’m going to apply the oil,” Loki said.

Thor chuckled from the bed. “I’m sorry, my love, you sound very clinical, I know you don’t mean to,” he said.

Loki didn’t answer, he was too busy pouring oil across his fingers and telling himself that everything would be okay. He wasn’t going to hurt Thor, he wasn’t going to hurt Thor, he wasn’t going to hurt Thor-“

“Loki? Is everything alright? Do you need to stop?” Thor asked, turning his head to try and see behind him.

Loki made an odd noise of assent and quickly put his fingers against Thor’s hole.

Thor jumped a little, making Loki retreat.

“Sorry! Sorry, Loki, it was colder than I thought it would be, go ahead,” Thor said, settling back down.

Loki almost quit right there. He was shaking from nerves as it was, but Thor’s words kept playing back to him, about how this was something they could have that was just for them.

Besides, Haewkyr had said it didn’t hurt, and Haewkyr would hardly lie about something like this.

Loki pressed a finger carefully against Thor’s hole and tried to ease it in.

Thor was lying still, utterly trusting that Loki wouldn’t hurt him. It was surreal.

Loki wriggled his finger inside up to the first joint. It was barely inside, but still he looked up at Thor to see if everything was alright.

Thor glanced back at him and gave him a smile.

“Feels a little strange, but it doesn’t hurt, go on, try a little more,” he said.

Loki carefully pressed the whole finger inside. He could remember how much he hated this, how much the feeling of the old King’s fingers had disgusted him. It was hard imagine that Thor wasn’t feeling the same way, but all he got in response was murmurs of encouragement. It was confusing and a little exciting at the same time.

Loki carefully moved his finger back and forth, trying to open Thor up for more. Thor made a moaning sound and raised his arse a little higher in response.

“This doesn’t feel bad,” he said, his voice a little muffled from the pillow he was lying face down against. 

“I’m glad,” Loki said. He liked the noises Thor was making, they soothed his fears considerably.

“Can you… can you give me a little more?” Thor asked, his breathing was becoming ragged in the way that made Loki get little shivers of delight. 

Loki carefully eased his second finger inside to join the first. Thor’s hips were making little twitching motions as he worked his fingers in and out.

“Still alright?” Loki asked. Thor hadn’t said anything for a few minutes and the silence was making Loki nervous.

“Feels good,” Thor said. “Feels so good.”

Loki looked to where his fingers were disappearing into Thor’s body. He honestly couldn’t understand how Thor could find this pleasurable.

But Thor wouldn’t lie to him. Loki knew that and trusted it completely, so if Thor said he was enjoying it then he must be.

Loki tried spreading his fingers apart inside Thor to open him up more, and was rewarded with a moan of pleasure.

“Do that again,” Thor demanded from the pillow.

Loki complied, he watched with wide eyes as Thor moaned and writhed under his touch. This was different to what they’d done before, before, Loki had called the shots but Thor had still been somewhat in control, now, it was all down to Loki.

It wasn’t bad.

Loki stretched and worked Thor carefully until the little moans had become one long moan, and his hole felt loose enough to continue on to the main event.

Which proved to be a problem. Loki had been so nervous about hurting Thor and being careful that he’d lost his arousal without realising it.

“Hold on a moment!” he called out to Thor, before grabbing himself and rubbing, trying to get hard again.

Thor looked over his shoulder and saw the problem.

“You worry too much,” he said with affection, correctly guessing what had happened. “Let me help you?”

Loki nodded, and Thor shifted upright to sit close to Loki on the bed. He took Loki’s cock in hand and pressed a deep kiss to his lips. “I love you so much,” he said when they broke apart.

Thor’s hand worked far better than Loki’s frantic tugging, Loki felt himself relax against Thor’s body and leaned up for another kiss.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked again.

Thor kissed him passionately. “I want you inside of me, I want to feel you there. I’ve had your fingers and I want more.”

He went to lie back down as he had been, but Loki stopped him.

“Wait, lie on your back, I want to see your face, I don’t want to have sex with the back of your head,” he said.

Thor smiled and lay down as instructed, spreading his legs wide to give Loki access to his body.

Loki moved into position and looked up into Thor’s eyes. 

Thor’s loving, trusting eyes.

With a small smile born from nervousness, Loki lined himself up and pressed his hips forward, easing his way into Thor’s body.

He watched Thor’s face the entire time, searching for a sign that this wasn’t what he wanted.

Thor’s eyes rolled back in his head and he moaned in desire and lust.

“Loki yeeeeesssssss,” he hissed between his teeth.

Loki continued to press until he was fully inside. Thor wasn’t wincing, crying out, or holding himself stiffly. He really did seem to be enjoying it.

Finally, with Thor’s blue eyes upon him, Loki was able to relax. He began to move his hips, slowly at first, but then with increasing rhythm, allowing himself to enjoy the way Thor’s body made him feel.

Thor never stopped looking at him, never stopped moaning with lust and encouragement. At one point, when Loki was close to the end, he reached up and wrapped his hand around Loki’s, holding it tightly.

“I’m going to come,” he hissed. “Touch me please, Loki, I’m going to come.”

Loki moved his hand and wrapped it around Thor’s cock, rubbing firmly as the last of Thor’s control slipped away and he came hard, spilling his seed all over his stomach. 

Loki lost control at the sight of it, emptying himself inside of Thor with a cry.

****

Afterwards they lay together on the bed, wrapped in each other’s arms.

“Was it alright?” Loki asked, having gotten his breath back.

“It was wonderful, I’m surprised more men don’t do it,” Thor answered. “Of course, I had a very caring partner,” he added.

Loki snuggled a bit closer. “This cuddling thing isn’t so bad, I never wanted to be held before, but I like it when you do it.”

Thor smiled. “If it’ll stop you from scratching our sheets up then I’m willing to make the sacrifice,” he teased gently.

“I never scratched before,” Loki said. “With… with him. Whether I was held or not, I never scratched. And during my travels I never wrecked any sheets. It started up when you and I became lovers.”

“Lucky me,” Thor said and kissed Loki gently on the forehead. 

“I didn’t scratch because I didn’t want anyone to hold me until you came along,” Loki said. “I didn’t realise that until now.”

“Does this mean I can throw away your bedtime log?” Thor asked.

Loki snuggled a bit closer. “We’ll see,” he said. “I left it in Asgard anyway, if this works out, I’ll throw it away when we get back.”

****

The rest of the time at Lord Kinndyr’s was, thankfully, peaceful. Smairken’s hormones finally settled down, returning him to the lovable grouch that he usually was, and the fens were full of interesting places to visit.

Loki and Musleen had a race through the maze, which Loki lost by less than ten minutes, and Thor and Haewkyr became hunting buddies, bringing in game every other day for the manor’s kitchens.

It was with a certain amount of sadness that they said goodbye to the place, but with the Falls of the Spritefolk ahead of them it was hard to be too gloomy.

Loki, Thor, Musleen, Daenceia, Haewkyr and Smairken were all going. Lord Kinndyr insisted that the family healer go as well, in case Smairken needed it. He protested, but gave in when he saw the concern in his father’s eyes.

“I just want you to take every precaution,” Lord Kinndyr had said. “What you are doing is unprecedented, and dangerous. Not to mention that you have my grandchild in there, I want to be able to take them riding one day.”

“Fine,” Smairken had answered. “But I’m still going down the side to camp with the others when we get there.”

It was a compromise of sorts, and Lord Kinndyr knew when to let it go.

They took the flyer again, the Falls of the Spritefolk were just under four month’s ride away if you rode every day. Last time it had taken Loki over thirteen years to get there, although that had been on progress and the court had stopped all over the place.

Smairken threw up in the first ten minutes and refused to be comforted. The ride lasted all day and was generally quite unpleasant for everyone.

“You’re having the next one,” Smairken told Haewkyr after he’d thrown up for the eighth time. “And the one after that. You can have all of them.”

“As you wish,” Haewkyr said fondly, winning himself a scowl.

Loki passed the time by catching Thor up on more of his adventures when travelling. Musleen took an interest as well, especially when Loki got to describing places like Nowhere, which were utterly lawless. 

“They’d be better off with a basic system of justice, you’d get more traders in that way,” Musleen commented.

“I don’t think it’s the kind of place where people care about that sort of thing,” Loki said. 

“Hmm,” Musleen answered disapprovingly.

****

It was dark by the time they landed. There was a rescue station by the Falls in case anyone fell in, and it had a flyer landing pad. The group would be staying in three of the luxury cabins built into the landscape, and they trudged their way there stiffly.

“A hot bath and a hot dinner is all I want,” Loki said.

“Indeed,” Thor answered. “Everything else can wait; I’ve never had to travel so far in a flyer before. Vanaheim is huge.”

“About seven hundred and twenty times bigger than Asgard, since the Barrier came down,” Musleen said, “just slightly larger than Midgard.”

“I never realised how big Midgard was,” Loki said absently as they walked up the steps to the cabins.

The owner was waiting for them with the keys and a welcoming smile. She immediately took Musleen and Daenceia into the first cabin, giving them a quick spiel about where to find everything and how to order dinner for delivery, before escorting Thor and Loki to the next cabin over.

“There are two bedrooms, your Graces, the dining area is here, the living room as you can see has a large area for entertainment. There are spare blankets in the cupboard here and a small kitchen if you plan to do any of your own cooking. Please call on us if you need anything at all, the kitchens stay open until midnight every night, just let us know if you need anything.”

Loki thanked her politely as Thor took her hand and kissed the back of it, making her blush.

“Flirt,” Loki said after she’d gone.

Given that the woman was in her middling years with a motherly air about her, it was clear that Loki was joking.

“Do you want to have a look at the dinner menu?” Thor asked.

“You can do it if you’re hungry, I’m going to run a bath,” Loki said. “I want a good, long soak after being in that flyer all day.”

Thor ordered them a share platter of different bite-sized foods as Loki ran the bath.

The cabins were well-stocked, luxury retreats, and Loki made liberal use of the bath scents.

Thor joined him in the bathroom once the food had arrived.

“So the Falls themselves,” he said. “They say that you cannot see the bottom when you stand on the top, is that true?”

“Very, they are so high it is incredible to see,” Loki replied, helping himself to a mini meat pie.

“And we’ll be camping at the bottom for a week?”

“That’s the plan according to Musleen, we’ll spend a few days up here enjoying the rest, then go down into the depths. I can’t wait to show you the pool down there, it’s a fantastic swim.”

“Then back up here for more luxury before we head home,” Thor finished. “You know, I don’t think I want this holiday to end.”

Loki smiled. “I know what you mean. It’s like a step out of time. Savour it, Thor, because we have to go back.”

Thor sighed. “I know,” he said.

“Can’t have the wedding here, Asgard will never forgive us,” Loki said, watching Thor’s face carefully.

First it froze. Then the eyes flicked upward to catch Loki’s. Then, with the slowness of a glacier, the mouth stretched into a wide, delighted, enthusiastic grin.

“What about your list?” Thor asked, his eyes shining with held back tears of joy.

Loki took a deep breath. “Screw that. I know what I want,” he said.

Thor stood up. Then he took a step one way. Then another. Then he sat down. Then he stood up again.

“Is that alright?” Loki asked him, bemused by his actions.

Thor whirled to face him. “Are you sure?” he asked. “Loki, are you *sure*. You will have to live in the palace. It’ll be different.”

“I am sure. I want to be with you. I want what our friends out there have, in all its crazy, hormonal, overly-protective, wonderful, baffling glory. I want you, Thor. I want to be your husband, and I *know* I can be your queen,” Loki said.

Thor leaned down and kissed him. It lasted a single perfect second before Loki grabbed his shirt and tugged. Thor’s feet slipped on the floor and he fell into the bath on top of Loki, who started laughing.

“Finally!” he crowed. “Finally, after all these years, I got you back! How do you like being made all wet?!”

Thor made a noise and mock outrage but couldn’t help bursting into laughter, which echoed clear and true through the halls of their cabin and into the night.


	92. Ninety One Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Holidays

The next few days were spent in a kind of blissful bubble that no one could penetrate. Even the chatter about camping at the base of the Falls seemed distant somehow as Loki and Thor lost themselves in their own little world.

Musleen, determined not to completely lose his edge in the face of Loki’s perceptiveness, was the first to notice that something had changed.

“They’re acting differently,” he told Daenceia on the last night in the cabins before they descended to the camp grounds.

“They’re on holiday,” she said with a smile. “They’re just relaxing.”

“No,” Musleen insisted. “Something has changed.”

“Maybe Loki is pregnant?” Daenceia suggested with a smile to show that she was joking. “Maybe they felt left out by the rest of us.”

Musleen shook his head. “Mark my words,” he said gravely, “something has changed, and one day soon I will find out what it is.”

“You are not going to spy on them?” Daenceia asked.

“I’m going to be observant, that’s not spying, it can’t be spying if you’re just watching how people act in front of you,” Musleen said.

Daenceia shot him a look that said she might disagree but said nothing.

****

Loki and Thor were spending a lot of time alone together, even for lovers. But with their engagement decided, there was a lot to think about before they told everyone.

“Like it or not, we are going to have to tell Odin before most other people,” Thor said.

Loki nodded. “I know, he’s still the king, he has that right. But we *have* to tell Mother before we leave, even if we tell no one else.”

Thor smiled and slipped an arm around Loki’s shoulders. “I, for one, would like to shout it from every rooftop,” he said. “I hope you won’t take it amiss if I do a *little* bit of shouting once we are home. Just among friends, and fellow warriors, the palace staff, the citizens, you know, essential people.”

“I suppose I’ll have to bear it,” Loki said, shooting Thor a smile.

And then there were the wedding plans themselves.

“It will be big, there’s no way around that,” Loki said. “But I want to wear green. No traditional dress for me.”

Thor nodded. “Green makes you look forbidding, deadly and sexy,” he said. “Will you wear your helmet?”

Loki nodded firmly.

“Good,” Thor said. “It completes the image of sexy, sexy you.”

Loki punched him lightly on the arm. “Stop it,” he said, but he was smiling.

Thor gave him a knowing look. “You truly want me to stop?” he teased lightly.

Loki pulled him in close and kissed him. “Maybe not right now,” he admitted. “Besides, I *do* look sexy in green.”

He didn’t hate the idea either. For decades, centuries, Loki had hated the idea of looking appealing to anyone, because anyone usually meant people he hated. But with Thor, and with time, he had changed his mind on the issue. It was nice to be thought of as appealing, especially when the one doing the thinking was appealing right back.

****

The climb down to the base of the Falls was exhilarating, and Loki made sure to take his time, stop at random points just to look around him, and especially to ignore the swing he’d been forced to take last time.

Screw the bloody swing, life was good and Loki was determined to enjoy it.

The camping ground was just off to the side of the Falls, far enough away that the deafening roar became a background rumble. Everyone wanted to dump their things and head straight for the pool at the base of the Falls, but Musleen held firm and made them set up their camp.

“You’ll thank me when you come back exhausted from swimming,” he said in the face of their grumbling.

Loki and Daenceia shared a smile. Musleen would never change, and neither of them wanted him to.

The camp was set up with minimum grumbling, and then the group headed down to the pool.

It was as good as Loki remembered, better even, because he was here with Thor.

There were times on this visit to Vanaheim where Loki felt as though Thor was systematically erasing all the bad feelings from Loki’s past, allowing him to truly see the beauty he had missed the first time around when it had been tainted by the presence of the king.

They swam together in the pool and tried to fight the current to see who could get as close to the falls as possible. Thor won, but only by a sliver, Haewkyr was close behind him but couldn’t quite pull even. Smairken consented to give him consolatory cuddles though, so he didn’t look too upset at the outcome.

In the evening, when they returned to the campsite and collapsed in exhaustion around the ready-made-up camp, Mulseen only looked a tiny bit smug.

Loki pressed himself against Thor’s side and fought back a yawn.

“I can’t believe our holiday will be over soon,” he said. “I wish we could go on like this forever.”

Thor wrapped an arm around him. “Me too, although I think a life of total and unending leisure would bore you, my love.”

Loki nodded. “But a life of unending adventure could have its charms,” he countered.

Thor smiled at him. “Do you want unending adventure?” he asked.

“Being with you is an adventure,” Loki said, twisting the ring on his finger and absentmindedly stroking the stone at the top, “my favourite kind of adventure so far.”

He looked up, straight into the knowing eyes and smirking face of Musleen.

Loki felt his heart leap.

Musleen knew.

He knew Loki and Thor were getting married.

How could he know?

Never mind, he did.

And he knew that Loki knew that *he* knew.

Who had the edge now?

Loki deliberately looked away from him. Musleen wouldn’t tell anyone. He was a prince; he knew how these things should go. He wouldn’t tell anyone until an official announcement had been made.

But still, Loki shouldn’t have been so obvious.

Thor, still oblivious, took a deep gulp of ale as Smairken fussed about the fire not being warm enough and insisting that Haewkyr fetch him a blanket and then help keep the whole thing warm by snuggling inside of it. The night was clear, the rumble of the Falls was soothing, everything felt just wonderful.

Which is why, when they retired to their tents for the night, Loki pulled Thor down onto the sleeping mat with the sole intention of testing the ability of the Falls to block out any and all sounds that might be thought of as embarrassing in close company.

Then they tested it again an hour later, just to be sure.

****

Musleen approached Loki the next day while the others were splashing about in the pool and discussing whether taking waterproof lights and following the underground river would be a sensible thing to do.

“Have you settled on a date yet?” Musleen asked casually. “I need to know if Dorgen is invited; the security details surrounding a foreign visit can be quite complicated.” 

Loki didn’t bother to deny it, Musleen was… Musleen; almost nothing got past him.

“No, we only confirmed it to ourselves a few days ago,” Loki said. “But I’ll make sure you have plenty of time to prepare, especially as I want you and Daenceia to come too.”

“And leave Vanaheim in the hands of Lyrren? It would be good for him,” Musleen mused. “Are Camtan and Sofftia invited as well?”

“Of course,” Loki said, “I wouldn’t dream of leaving them out.”

Musleen smiled. “They’ll love it, they both love to go to parties, and I imagine this one will be rather large.”

“That would be an understatement,” Loki said. “It’s going to be the biggest thing the nine realms have ever seen. Trust me, it’s been a long time since Asgard had a wedding held in peacetime, and the food situation has finally settled down, rationing is over, this thing may go for *days*.”

“And you don’t mind?” Musleen asked. 

Loki shrugged. “I don’t mind as much as I thought I would,” he confessed. “I know that sometimes, as a royal, you have to do things you wouldn’t necessarily choose to do if you had no duties, although I think it helps that I’m marrying the right person.”

Musleen nodded. “I felt the same way. Mine was small, for a royal wedding, still grand, still involving people I didn’t care for because they attend court and it would be rude to turn them away. Although mine did get interrupted by a madman, which broke up the rituals a little.”

“A little?” Loki responded.

“Just a little,” Musleen said with a poker face, “just a small, forty three year pause on the whole thing.”

“Well that’s not happening to us,” Loki said determinedly. “I won’t allow it.”

Musleen nodded. “May I give you a small amount of advice?” he asked.

Loki nodded. “You know you can, your advice is terrifyingly sensible.”

Musleen rolled his eyes. “Sensible, yes, exactly what I always longed to be growing up,” he deadpanned. “My advice is simple. Most wedding vows include a promise to cleave to one another in hard times as well as good, well, a wedding is the first real test of that for both of you. They are hard, and likely to cause more fights than resolutions, so, in the planning stages and on the day, when everything seems too big and too loud and too *much*, take a moment to look at the person you are marrying and remember that, as hard as the day may be, when it’s all over your reward is to spend the rest of your life with this person. They are worth the hard times, including the one right in front of you.”

Loki nodded slowly. “As always, a sensible suggestion,” he said. “I promise I will do my best to remember it when I’m trying not to kill my future husband over which napkins we should choose.”

Just then, Thor and Daenceia came over, to be greeted by two sets of loving eyes, green for Thor, blue for Daenceia.

“Haewkyr and I are going to swim down the tunnel,” Thor announced. “Do either of you want to join us?”

Musleen and Loki exchanged a look.

“It doesn’t sound very sensible,” Loki said, to spare Musleen from having to say it. “How are you planning to get back up here?”

“We’ll hike it,” Thor said. “Haewkyr said the birds all know the way, we can take direction from them.”

“Have fun,” Musleen said. “I’m staying here, where the food is.”

Thor frowned. “We didn’t think of that,” he said, and turned. “Haewkyr! We’ll have to go tomorrow! We’ll pack some food in waterproof bags!”

Haewkyr looked up and nodded. “Very sensible!” he shouted back.

Musleen sighed and dropped his head into his hands as Loki laughed.

****

In the end, the expedition through the river’s tunnel became a group affair, with Musleen in charge of the planning. Food was packed, the largest tent sent down to the end point (carried by two large birds working together) and lights and safety belts handed out to all.

“I don’t care that we can all swim; we are going through a pitch dark tunnel. If the lights fail or you get caught in an eddy and get tired you might need it,” Musleen said sternly.

They set out I the early morning and made their way to the Falls.

“Last chance to back out,” Musleen said as they entered the water and stared into the darkness of the tunnel before them.

“The locals all say that it is safe, just dark and long,” Haewkyr said. “I’m going in.”

They began to swim their way forwards, riding on the current as the cave narrowed down and became a proper tunnel.

“I bet it’s boring,” Smairken said suddenly. “I bet we go all the way through and it’s nothing but dull rock the whole way.”

“Then we’ll just have to talk to one another,” Haewkyr said cheerfully.

The darkness increased, making their lights stand out as little beacons surrounded by thick blackness.

Loki found Thor suddenly floating beside him.

“Are you alright?” Thor said softly in his ear.

“Of course,” Loki said, “why wouldn’t I be?”

Thor shrugged and said nothing.

“Thor?” Loki pressed.

Thor looked guilty. “I thought the darkness might remind you of the Ink,” he said, “I hope it doesn’t,” he added quickly, looking concerned that by bringing it up he might have triggered something.

Loki slipped a hand in Thor’s as they floated together. “It hadn’t crossed my mind,” he said. “But if it does, I know you are here.”

****

Smairken was mostly right in his assessment. The tunnel was mainly plain rock and steady, but gentle water. The group played a few games and told stories to pass the time. Musleen, Loki and Smairken told riddles that ranged from fairly easy to fiendishly difficult. Musleen’s relied on logic to be solved, Smairken’s relied on obscure knowledge, Loki’s were a combination of the two.

Thor surprised Smairken by solving one of his, which made Loki beam in reflected pride.

About halfway through the journey, the tunnel reached an area made from a different type of rock. It opened out into a mini cave filled with flecks of shiny crystals that bounced their lights back and forth, making the place light up in a multitude of colours. They spent half an hour playing like children in the cave before moving on.

“Do you see how dull the tunnel is?” Smairken complained. “Such a sight should not have entranced us for so long.”

“You were the one who refused to leave until you go the blue light and the yellow light to cross over and make green,” Haewkyr pointed out.

“Loki wanted the green,” Smairken said, “I merely helped because I like a challenge.”

The rest of the trip was uneventful, and the group greeted the sight of the exit with sighs of relief.

“It was cold down there,” Thor said. “Let’s warm up with a fire and food.”

“Are we staying by the river tonight?” Musleen asked. “Or would you prefer to hike a little way back today?”

“Let’s stay by the river,” Haewkyr said, eyeing it speculatively. “I sense fish.”

Musleen began to set up the tent while Loki and Thor saw to the fire and Haewkyr dove back into the water to try and catch a fish to add to their supper.

They all curled up together in the tent that night, which made for some close snuggling. Loki reserved the place by the entrance. He was enjoying his newfound cuddling with Thor, but he wasn’t feeling up to sleeping in close contact with anyone else just yet.

Smairken choked down his improved potion after dinner and immediately went to brush his teeth.

“We need to sort out the flavour of this stuff,” he complained. “I can barely keep it down.”

Loki shrugged, not really sympathising. Smairken had been rather prickly of late and had been getting on Loki’s nerves.

“Just wait until you’re stuck with a baby making you all sick and jumpy,” Smairken grumbled. 

“Sure,” Loki said, “one day that will happen, and when it does you can be as unsympathetic as you like.”

Smairken gave him a sly, evil kind of a look.

Loki frowned in response.

Smairken’s eyes looked positively gleeful.

“What?” Loki asked.

Smairken wandered in closer, settling right down near Loki so that they couldn’t be overheard.

“When we were at my father’s house you told Thor that you were fertile and couldn’t, uh, risk it, for a month,” he said. “And I may have been mistaken, but two nights ago when I got up to pee *again*, I heard you two being rather intimate. You didn’t get carried away and *forget* you were fertile, did you?”

Loki paled, turning porcelain-white in the firelight.

He had forgotten. He’d completely forgotten. And they’d most definitely…*twice*.

Oh no.

“It’s fine,” Loki lied, “we’re past the time, nothing is going to happen.”

Smairken grinned psychotically. The hormones really weren’t helping to keep him on an even keel.

“We’ll see,” he said cheerfully. “If you suddenly announce you’re getting married the second you get home, I’m going to know why.”

Loki shook his head. He wasn’t going to tell Smairken that they’d already decided such a thing, and weddings took forever to plan, he’d find out in time that he was wrong.

Probably.

Best not to worry Thor about it just yet. His period was due any day now; it was probably too late in his time to worry about anything happening. If he was going to get pregnant then it would happen early on, or somewhere in the middle, not a few days before it was all due to stop…right?

He’d tell Thor if it didn’t happen by next week.

Yes, that would be best.

Loki stood up and headed for the camp toilet. He wasn’t going to panic, be nervous nor do anything even remotely close to worry. Besides, everyone else was having a baby, it would fit right in.

Unseen by Loki as he was lost in thought, Musleen watched him go, one single eyebrow raised in thought.

****

One week after their camping trip, and Loki was starting to get nervous.

He still hadn’t gotten his period. He was still rather intensely aroused by the sight of Thor, far more than normal. Was it possible that his fertile time was just running long?

The problem with being from one species while being raised by another was that you never learnt any of the important things, like why you were suddenly desperate to hole up in a tent with your lover and do nothing but make love for days at a time.

Sadly this was not to be, it was impolite to do so when on holiday with a group of friends. As well as ill-advised if you were trying to avoid being pregnant before have a big, royal, extremely public wedding.

Loki needed information and he needed it fast.

Luckily, he knew some very helpful and knowledgeable grandparents, who were more than happy to help out. He contacted them one afternoon while Thor and Haewkyr were busy spearfishing. Normally Loki excelled at spearfishing, and he intended to join them soon, but for the moment he pleaded a mild headache and went to fetch a cure.

“Loki! Darling, how are you?” Lord Eadgleyr exclaimed as the connection was established and they were able to see one another.

“I’m well, we’re all well, we’re just relaxing and enjoying the holiday,” Loki said. “But I do need a favour.”

“Oh yes? What’s the matter?” Lord Eadgleyr asked.

Loki blushed as he told his grandmother what had happened.

“I need to know what’s going on,” he said. “I don’t feel sick, I can’t feel any life inside of me, but something has definitely changed. I need to know what it means before I tell Thor.”

Lord Eadgleyr nodded. “We don’t have a lot of information on Jotnir, but I can certainly find someone who does. Don’t worry, Loki dear, we’ll figure it out.”

Loki thanked him, ended the call and returned to the river, where he proceeded to out-fish both Thor and Haewkyr for the rest of the afternoon while Smairken lounged in the shade and kept shooting him knowing looks.

Loki decided to give it a few more days before he told Thor. He wanted to be certain, after all.

It was definitely not because he was scared. Nope, not at all.


	93. Ninety Two Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Information and Confrontation

The rest of the time spent at the Falls was fairly uneventful, plenty of relaxing, resting, and with good conversation. Were it not for the mysterious case of the never-ending fertile time, Loki would be in heaven.

They were packing for the journey home when the signal arrived to let them know that they had a communication. Thor looked up curiously as Loki practically snatched the communication device and disappeared into the bathroom. He knew his behaviour was unusual and that Thor would be wondering what was going on, but hopefully he’d be able to tell Thor everything in just a few minutes.

“Grandmother?” Loki asked, opening the channel.

“Hello Loki dear, how are you feeling?” Lord Eadgleyr asked, smiling gently.

“Nervous, do you know what’s going on?” Loki asked.

He couldn’t hide the worry in his voice. He was *not* ready for a baby, not now, only a few weeks after deciding he was ready to marry.

“I’ve done as much research as I can, and there are two possible options as to what is happening,” Lord Eadgleyr said. “The first one is that you are, in fact, pregnant. Do you feel any differently to normal? Are you feeling hot at all? Do you feel irritable?”

“Permanently,” Loki quipped. “But in all seriousness, I haven’t noticed any changes apart from my heat just continuing.”

“Then it’s likely to be the second option. You are having an extended heat. From what I read, Jotun bodies can recognise foreign genetic material, if you are exposed to some during your heat but it doesn’t end in pregnancy, your body tries to increase its chances by extending the heat for longer. My sources say it will go away if you refrain from sexual activity,” Lord Eadgleyr said.

Loki frowned. “That never happened… before,” he said awkwardly. “My heat was very regular… before.”

Lord Eadgleyr nodded. “You were also drinking copious amounts of preventative tea, and then there was the amulets, remember? You aren’t taking anything now, are you?”

Loki shook his head. “No, I didn’t see the need,” he said. He let out a sigh of relief. “I can’t feel a life inside, this has to be it. Thank you, Grandmother, I was so worried that something strange was happening.”

Lord Eadgleyr smiled. “I look forward to the day when you have good news to tell me, Loki, but for now I think this is the best outcome. A child outside of marriage isn’t the worst thing to happen to a person, but being royalty does change the standards somewhat, and I don’t want you two rushing into things because a child is in the picture.”

Loki didn’t move so much as a muscle on his face. He wanted to tell his grandmother that he and Thor were now engaged, but really, he and Thor should tell everyone together, and an official announcement still had to be made.

“Yes, Grandmother, I understand that, and I agree. Now is not the time,” Loki said instead. “Thank you so much for looking it up for me.”

“You take care of yourself; I hope you had a good holiday,” Lord Eadgleyr said, “a nice, relaxing one.”

Loki grinned. “We did, the Falls are magnificent, but we head home tomorrow.”

Lord Eadgleyr signed off, and Loki left the bathroom to talk to Thor.

“That was our grandmother,” Loki said, setting the communication device down on the table. “I asked for his help a few days ago and he just got back to me.”

“What with?” Thor asked immediately.

Loki realised that he had begun to blush. He sat down and tried to look Thor in the eye. “I forgot that I was in heat, and then I thought I might be pregnant,” he admitted.

Thor’s face was a picture of sudden terror.

“But I’m not,” Loki finished.

“Oh,” Thor said. “I mean, one day, of course, but right now, um…”

“Yes, um,” Loki said. 

He breathed another sigh of relief. “But we have to stop all sexual activity for a bit, my heat is running long, apparently because you are so damn irresistible and my body thinks I should be having your children.”

Thor grinned at that, a big, dopey grin.

“Shut up,” Loki mumbled at him, which only served to make the grin widen.

“I think I can live without your touch for a little while,” Thor said. “I don’t *want* to, but I will live.”

“Good,” Loki said. “I’m three weeks overdue already, this is not acceptable.”

Thor walked over, took Loki’s hand and kissed it gently. “Farewell, my love, I will remove myself to the other side of any room you may be in, lest I find my attraction to you overpowering,” he said.

Loki pulled a face and mimed swatting Thor across the back of his head. “You romantic fool, you,” he said fondly. “We need to get back to packing, how did we manage to accumulate so much stuff?”

Thor shrugged. “At least the palace has hundreds of rooms to put it all in,” he said.

Loki blinked. Of course he’d be moving into the palace, that was a part of the whole ‘marrying Thor’ thing, but to hear it said so practically was a little unnerving.

“Yes,” he said. “There is that.”

Uh oh, doubts. He’d been so sure when he’d said it. He’d been sure for weeks, but going home meant actually doing it.

Thor glanced over at him and spotted the look of distress. 

“Loki?” he said gently.

“I’m alright, I’m just… I just need to go for a walk I think, clear my head,” Loki said.

He darted out as quickly as he could.

Thor resisted the urge to go after him. He had to trust that Loki would confide in him when he felt ready.

****

Loki headed over to the top of the Falls and took a few deep breathes. Yes he liked his house in the Spice District. Yes he loved his workroom and his kitchen and having his own small household with Corokat and Hoeldyr, but he loved Thor even more than that. This was just one of those moments of uncertainty. It would pass. He was trading in some of the things he loved for some more things that he loved even more.

After a few minutes, Loki was able to calm himself down. Maybe he and Thor could keep the house? It could be their private place to go every now and again, when they wanted some time to themselves without a palace full of people around them. 

The thought was calming, and Loki held on to it. He knew what he wanted, and he was going to damn well have it no matter how scared he was. 

He turned and saw Musleen calmly sitting in the distance, admiring the view. After a moment, Daenceia walked down the path and found him. The look on Musleen’s face when he saw her was heart-warming. For a moment he was unguarded and Loki saw all the love that normally lay concealed behind a mask of control.

Thor looked at him like that. Everything would be alright. 

Loki turned away and headed back to the cabin to finish packing.

****

The party of travellers stopped overnight at Lord Kinndyr’s, where Loki and Thor took Frigga aside to tell her of their engagement. She beamed like a lighthouse and hugged them both tightly, thrilled that her two babies were finally taking the next step together.

“I’m so happy for you both,” she said with tears in her eyes.

“Mother, please,” Loki mumbled, embarrassed.

Thor just grinned. He was more than prepared to shout his love from every rooftop he could find, the concealment was killing him.

“As soon as we make the official announcement I want to contact our grandparents and tell them, I don’t want them to hear it from an official channel,” he said. “It should come from us. The Warriors Four will hear it at court, but Haewkyr should be told directly, and will you want to tell Daenceia and Musleen yourself?”

Loki just laughed. Thor’s enthusiasm was wonderful. *Thor* was wonderful, like a warm bath or finding just the right gift for someone, he was a good, if somewhat indescribable feeling.

“I have a list of people to tell,” Loki confirmed. “I might have to write it out though, I keep thinking of new people every day.”

“Do you want to get married as soon as possible after the announcement? Or would you prefer to wait for a while and get used to being back in the palace?” Thor asked him.

Something in his tone told Loki that Thor had picked up on his fears rather more than he’d let on.

“How about we see how we feel?” Loki said with a smile. “I’ll move in, we’ll adjust to palace life, start working on being more active in ruling the realm, and then we’ll pick a date. It’s doesn’t have to be a long way out, besides, royal weddings are huge, they can take months to plan.”

“I think a lot of the standard, traditional stuff will be taken care of by the palace officials,” Thor said. “But we still have a lot of decisions to make.”

Loki nodded. “I don’t suppose we can leave it all to them and just show up at the right time? As long as no one tries to make me wear a dress I don’t really care about the rest.”

Thor smiled and went to put his arm around Loki’s shoulders, only to pull back with a resigned smile. Loki was *still* in heat, and, with the absence of firm information, they were avoiding anything that could even be remotely considered a ‘sexual activity’.

Loki returned his look. “Soon, I’m sure,” he said by way of an apology.

Thor chuckled. “You don’t need to promise me that sort of thing. I told you may years ago that I could live with whatever you chose to give me, however much or little it was. I stand by my statement. I can wait.”

Loki sighed. “I wish I could. I want you so badly right now.”

“Just right now?”

“Just right now, and the right now before that, and the right now before *that*,” Loki clarified. “I want you for *all* the right nows.”

Thor laughed then, chuckling deep in his throat. “I love you,” he said. “I love you, Loki. You make my life worth living. I want to conquer mountains for you. I want to fight armies.”

“I can fight my own armies, thank you,” Loki said with mock primness.

A second later they both collapsed into giggles. It was that kind of an afternoon.

****

Four days later Loki and Thor walked through Loki’s front door back in the Spice District and sighed in relief. Going on a holiday was fun, but exhausting, to the point that they both felt like they needed a holiday to recover from the holiday.

“Worth it,” Loki said, summing up both of their feelings.

Corokat appeared from the kitchen and greeted them with a bow and a smile. “Welcome home, your Grace, would you like a drink and something to eat?”

“Oh yes please Corokat, that would be perfect,” Loki said as he and Thor dumped their bags and went to sit down in the living room.

“I’ll have to organise to have my things moved into the palace,” Loki said, looking around. “Not most of the furniture, but my workbench and all of my seidr things, certainly. I’ll leave the rest here, for when we visit.”

Thor nodded. He’d responded positively to Loki’s suggestion of keeping the house for privacy, and if the thought that Loki might be keeping an escape route open had crossed his mind he had not let on.

“We can rope the Warriors Four in to helping us,” he said. “They’ll love it.”

Loki snorted inelegantly as Corokat arrived with warmed ale and fresh muffins. Loki and Thor thanked her and dug in, for a few minutes there was a comfortable silence.

“Will I get my old room back?” Loki asked suddenly. “Technically we’re not supposed to be sharing until after we’re married.”

Thor shrugged. “I don’t think it’s occupied,” he said. “But it’s too far from me, which I object to.”

Loki smiled and took another bite. “It won’t be for too long,” he said. “When do you want to tell Odin?”

“Tomorrow? Then I can finally start telling everyone else,” Thor said, “unless you would prefer to wait?”

Loki nodded. He hadn’t spoken to Odin in a long time, but he’d known when they’d gotten engaged that he would have to, probably on a semi-regular basis from that point onward. It was one of the downsides to getting married, but Thor more than made up for it. Besides, Thor had already promised him that, unless it was absolutely necessary for the running of the realm, Loki didn’t have to interact with Odin at all. Thor would do it all.

“We might as well, we’re not going to get any less engaged, and we need to start the planning and the moving. Uh, do we need an appointment? We never did when we were younger but neither of us have acknowledged him as family for a long time.”

Thor shrugged. “We’ll find out, if so I’m sure he won’t keep us waiting long. As soon as we tell him that we both wish to speak to him, I think he’ll work out why.”

Loki nodded. “What am I going to do with Corokat and Hoeldyr?” he asked, suddenly concerned. “I’ve never had to end someone’s employment before.”

“We can ask Volstagg,” Thor said. “Maybe they can join the palace staff?”

“All I know is, they are hard workers who I would recommend to anyone, which I will, if I have to,” Loki said. “I wish there wasn’t so much to do.”

Thor shrugged, but ultimately there was nothing either one of them could do. Change always brought work, and more work on top of that work.

“We’ll get through it,” Thor said, “and one day we’ll think back on this time and only remember how in love we were.”

“I like that idea,” Loki said. “I like it a lot.”

****

No matter how hard he tried, Loki could not shake the feeling of nerves that came over him as he walked through the palace gates the following morning. He’d avoided the place for years, even going so far as to find a different place to spar and train so that he didn’t have to enter the training yards. But now he was back, and not just back, but planning to move in.

He took a deep breath, then another, then a third.

“Are you alright?” Thor asked him quietly.

Loki forced a nod. The answer was ‘no’, but there was the distinct possibility that he would *be* alright, as soon as the hard part was over.

Assuming, of course, that the hard part was telling Odin and not the actual moving in that would follow.

Together they walked through the corridors, greeting those that they knew and preparing themselves to face Odin.

“Our friends are in the city at the Mighty Strike tavern, they’re waiting there for us so that we can catch up afterwards,” Thor said. 

Loki nodded, but couldn’t speak. This was harder than he’d imagined. The last time he’d seen Odin the man had been humbled and filled with regret, and yet the image of him as an imposing, authoritarian figure was far more pervasive, but then he had held that position in Loki’s mind for far longer.

They reached Odin’s door and shared a glance.

“We can do this,” Thor said. “I know we can.”

Loki reached forward impulsively and knocked hard on the door.

“No going back now,” he said. His voice sounded slightly strangled.

“Come in,” Odin called out from beyond.

Thor reached out and opened the door. He took Loki’s hand and gave it a squeeze of encouragement as they walked inside.

Odin dropped his pen. He clearly had not been expecting them. For a moment the room was silent, filled only with feelings of fear, regret, shock and nerves, but then Odin gained some control over himself and stood, gesturing to the chairs on the other side of his desk.

“I was not expecting to see you both. Please sit down,” he said, quite formally.

They sat. Loki privately noted how the seats on the far side were designed to make visitors sink down so that they sat slightly lower than Odin, an old trick, and one he’d seen Musleen and Dorgen employ on more than one occasion.

Of course, knowing about the trick meant that you could combat it. Loki made sure he was sitting as straight as possible as he looked Odin in the eyes.

Odin bowed his head respectfully to Loki, which caught him off guard.

“We have come to tell you of our engagement,” Thor said stiffly. “We understand that there will be a formal announcement, and we also wish you inform you that Loki will be moving back into the palace before the wedding.”

Odin nodded, he looked old and tired to Loki’s eyes. He looked, in short, like a man who had lost a war and was now accepting whatever term he might be given.

“I congratulate you both. I will arrange the announcement. Have you decided a date?” Odin said quietly.

“Not yet,” Thor said just as Loki blurted out:

“Spring, the end of spring.”

“Spring is in three months,” Odin said.

“I know,” Loki replied, ignoring Thor’s surprised, yet very pleased, look. “It is also when the Vanir harvests are in, as that is their summer, so there will be plenty of food for the people, but before our own harvests, which will mean the people can celebrate freely before they have to head to the fields to work. It’s a good time, everything lines up.”

Thor nodded. “It’s a perfect time, is it long enough to plan everything?”

“Yes,” Odin said. “The palace staff can begin as soon as the announcement is made. They will have everything ready in time.”

“I want to join some of the working councils,” Loki said. He wasn’t sure where his nerves had gone, but it probably had something to do with Odin looking so old and small. Lord Fallconyr had more life in him and he was millennia older. “I want to help with the revitalisation of the poor areas and with realm security.”

Odin showed a sign of life at that, his brow crinkled in concern. “Why realm security?” he asked.

Loki met his gaze evenly. “I am very good friends with the man who runs Vanaheim’s spy network. I *know* he has spies here, and I *know* he won’t stop just because I ask him to, that’s not how the game is played. But I do know the rules, and I want to beat him. I know a little about how he thinks, I can help. Besides, we should understand more about the other realms, perhaps if we did we wouldn’t have such pesky wars, with pesky orphans…”

Odin paled. Loki had never seen blood run from a man’s face so quickly.

“Loki…I…” he spluttered.

Loki took a deep breath. “I forgive you,” he said. “Mostly because I don’t need to hold on to anger, I tried it and it only made me angrier. I know who loves me, I know who I am. But I wanted you to know that I know, and I want you to know that things could have gone a lot better if you’d let me be *me*.”

Odin looked down. After a moment he nodded. “You can join the councils,” he said. “I think you will be a wonderful queen, and one day a good co-ruler of Asgard.”

Loki nodded, beside him; Thor tried hard not to break into a grin. Loki was flawless in his manner, you would never know how nervous he’d been less than ten minutes earlier.

“Thank you for your time,” Thor said and rose. Loki stood as well, but when Thor began to walk away he held back.

“Go on, Thor, I have one more thing to ask,” he said, shooting Thor a smile.

Thor looked reluctant, but he did as Loki asked and left the room. Loki turned back to Odin, who looked at him in surprise.

“What else do you want to ask me, Loki?” Odin said.

Loki sat back down and allowed himself a small sigh.

“Mother. It appears she is still bound to you by marriage,” he said. “I promised myself and her that I’d speak to you about it. She is not coming back, she’s found happiness elsewhere. We would all appreciate it if you would release her from her marriage.”

Odin blinked hard, and Loki realised that there were tears in the man’s eyes.

“I loved her,” Odin said softly. “I loved her so much. I thought she was my soulmate, and maybe she was. But I dirtied my soul in this whole business with you and Vanaheim.”

He rose and went to his bookshelf, running his finger along the binders there until he found the one he was looking for, and after a moment of searching through it, pulled out a worn parchment. It was his and Frigga’s marriage contract.

“Will you send this to her?” he asked, as he took his pen and placed a hard strike through the centre of the page. He wrote ‘divorced by order of the king’ and signed the amended document with a shaking hand.

Loki nodded.

Tears began to fall from Odin’s eyes as he rolled the parchment up and handed it across to Loki.

“I had hoped, stupidly I see now, that she would one day come back. I never thought when I met her that we would be parted from one another. I loved her as much as you love Thor. But then I turned my back on love, and so I lost it, from you, from Thor, from my beloved Frigga. Please tell her that, even if she can never love me again, her happiness is all I want. Hers and yours; I ruined everything, Loki, and I’m so sorry.”

Loki didn’t know what to feel. He stood, parchment in hand, and stared awkwardly at Odin. 

Loki had never been all that good at empathy, he felt it, but expressing it was a different matter, and to add to it, Odin was still the man who had sent him to Vanaheim.

On the other hand, he did look horribly broken.

“I don’t know if we’re ever going to be at ease with each other,” Loki said. “But I can be civil, I know I can, and I won’t keep you from knowing your grandchildren, when they come. But I am in charge of their movements.”

“I will put that in writing and sign it for you if you like,” Odin said. “Thank you, Loki.”

Loki gave him a stiff nod and walked out. 

Thor was waiting outside the door; he looked anxious.

“Is everything alright?” he asked immediately.

“Yes,” Loki said, letting the tension out of his shoulders, “everything is alright.”


	94. Ninety Three Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Announcement and Preparations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys,
> 
> I'm so sorry that this took so long, I keep promising you that I haven't given up and I mean it, I really do.
> 
> But enough about me, something really cool has happened! The absolutely awesome Midnightprincess has written a fanfic of this fanfic!!!
> 
> It is here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/7283413
> 
> It's called 'If Not For You' and I would really appreciate it if you would take the time to check it out, if you want to, of course.
> 
> I would also like to say, given that I write fanfic of things I enjoy, the idea that someone would want to write/draw/sing/dance etc. a fanfic of something I did just blows me away completely. I felt that way about the fan-art in the Caveman story, and I feel that way now. So I would just like to say thank you to Midnightprincess for taking the time to write her story and for thinking that my characters were interesting enough to explore.
> 
> Alright, that's all, on to the story.

The official announcement was made a day later and was met by enthusiastic approval and delight by the population of Asgard. By then, Loki and Thor had already contacted all the people on their list to tell them the news personally. It had been fun, but exhausting.

“Congratulations,” Musleen had said as Daenceia squealed and beamed at them through the screen.

“Loki that’s fantastic!” Camtan had exclaimed, “and for you too Thor, of course,” he amended hurriedly.

“When did you two decide that?!” Haewkyr demanded, “and why didn’t you tell me?!”

“Because you don’t have to be the first to know everything,” Smairken had butted in with a smirk. He locked eyes with Loki through the screen. “I told you I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Loki smirked back at him. “Your timing may have been right but you’re still wrong about the other thing,” he countered, making both Haewkyr and Thor look confused, but neither man chose to elaborate to their partners about their brief conversation at the fireside a few weeks earlier.

Best of all was their grandparents. Lord Eadgleyr grinned hugely and congratulated them both as Lord Fallconyr tried to blink the tears of happiness out of his eyes.

“I’m so happy to see you like this Loki, you are truly thriving, and happy. That’s all I wanted for you,” he said, fighting back his tears.

“You are both invited to the wedding of course,” Loki said. “I won’t let Odin keep you away.”

“You’ve got him well under your thumb, haven’t you, Loki dear?” Lord Fallconyr said.

Loki grinned. He kind of did.

****

Two weeks later, and Loki was standing outside of one of the council chambers, about to join them for the first time. He took a deep breath and told himself that everything would be fine. He had to believe that, for his own sake, and for the sake of his future in Asgard.

It was his first day on the council for the maintenance of the city, an area of particular interest for Loki after his successful rejuvenation of the slum areas. The council was attended by two Lords, five Ladies of varying rank, and, occasionally, Odin.

Today Odin would be present; he would introduce Loki to the rest of the council and hear updates of progress and suggestions for the future.

Loki was definitely not nervous. No. Not even a little.

He was, he reflected wryly, a much better liar on the outside than he was on the inside. He wasn’t the slightest bit convincing.

He stepped through the door as the hour struck, no sense being too early, or late; too early would give the impression that he wished to take over, which was true, but there was value in not revealing such a thing too early in the proceedings, and late was not to be thought of. He definitely didn’t want to give the impression that he didn’t care.

Most of the others were seated at the table; they rose to great him as he walked in. Loki acknowledged them and glanced at the table for an empty seat. 

Naturally, it was the one next to Odin’s.

Oh well, things had been… carefully cordial, these last few weeks; ever since Loki had moved back into the palace. Odin had not pressured him into any kind of relationship, but public appearances had to be maintained.

Odin appeared in the doorway and acknowledged Loki before the rest of the crowd. Loki returned the greeting gracefully. At another gesture from Odin the assembled nobles all sat and began shuffling their various notes.

“With your permission, your Majesty, I would like to begin with a summary of our last meeting,” stated an older woman with an air of primness about her that made Loki cautious. He had a feeling that this was her chosen crusade, and that it would be difficult to achieve anything without her support.

Odin nodded his assent, and the woman, Lady Polmpia, began reading from her notes.

“The clearance in the south has been successful, the area has been demolished and the new gardens are being installed as we speak. The poor in those areas have been moved to the support houses in the next district. There were a few protests, but those people were arrested and have been appropriately dealt with.”

“Why was the area demolished?” Loki asked.

Lady Polmpia blinked in surprise at being interrupted. “Because it was a giant fire hazard, your Grace, most of the area was built of wood and thatch, and the houses were very close together.”

“And the support houses? What are they like?” Loki asked.

Lady Polmpia glanced at Odin, which Loki took note of, but the King merely gestured for her to answer.

“They are large buildings designed to house many families in a communal setting, allowing them to have shelter and access to cooking and cleaning facilities,” she explained.

“And when will they be able to move back to their lands?” Loki asked.

Lady Polmpia looked blank. “Move back? They’re not moving back. The area is being updated for new use. They were compensated for their lands.”

“How much?” Loki asked.

“An appropriate and fair price as dictated by our surveyors,” Lady Polmpia said. “The land was needed for the famine.”

“The famine is over, Vanaheim is trading again, and you just said that the gardens were only just now going in, was the land used for crops after demolition and now, with the famine over, the area is being converted back into housing?” Loki asked.

Odin suddenly rose, causing everyone in the room to jump to their feet. 

“I don’t think I need to be here,” he said. “Loki can speak for me; he has experience in successful rejuvenation projects. I trust him to handle this properly.”

Lady Polmpia looked miserable as Odin left, leaving Loki to sink back into his seat with a calculating look in his eye.

“So,” Loki said pleasantly, “is the area being converted back into housing?” 

Why exactly had he been feeling nervous about this? Loki couldn’t remember.

****

Despite the palace staff taking care of all the major arrangements, there were still plenty of things that the royal couple had to do, plenty of choices to make, and plenty of frustration to stamp down on.

“I do not care about desserts,” Loki declared one day, walking into Thor’s room and throwing himself down on the bed. “They’ve given me a list for us to choose from, there are thirty different dishes on there and they think they’ll need to make twenty five to cater for everyone. With numbers like that, why can’t they just make what they prefer?”

Thor chuckled and took the list out of Loki’s hand. “Why don’t we just pick which one we want to be served to us and tell them they can decide the rest?” he suggested.

Loki sat up immediately. “Good idea. I want the mint cream with the chocolate cold-cake. What do you want?”

Thor glanced down the list. “Hmm… you don’t appear to be on here,” he mused with a twinkle in his eye.

Loki jumped up and kissed him. “Fool,” he said lightly, “that’s not dessert, given how long the celebrations will probably last, that’s what you have for breakfast.”

Loki’s heat had, finally, calmed itself down. It had taken almost three times longer than normal and had led to a lot of frustrated nights for both of them. Not to mention the careful lack of affection during the day had started a few rumours about whether the wedding was really their idea or a political plot hatched by Odin.

Those rumours had been quashed in the last week, what with Loki being caught sitting on Thor’s lap in a tavern and nibbling on his ear. 

Moving back in had not been without its problems, but for the most part things had gone fairly smoothly. Loki had beaten his chosen councils into submission, and his natural talents meant that he was adapting well to his new routine. He had already begun drafting a template for the reorganisation of the security teams. He felt there were a few things that could be improved, although it would have to wait until after the wedding, changing everything this close to such a large event would cause more problems than it would solve.

He had written glowing references for Corokat and Hoeldyr, who he had been sorry to see go, but as it turned out working for the ex-queen of Vanaheim, who also happened to be the betrothed of the current crown prince of Asgard, as well as the saviour of the slums, was the sort of reference that allowed them to find new places very quickly, and in very high households.

In short, Loki was finding that things were going well. He was happy, his dark thoughts were, not gone, they would never truly be gone, but they seemed to take regular holidays from his mind, and when they did slink back in to try and torment him he found that they didn’t hold the power they once did.

Three months wasn’t very long, and it seemed even shorter. Before Loki knew it, he’d woken up on his wedding morning and the guests were beginning to arrive.

****

Prince Musleen of Vanaheim took his wife’s arm as the Bifrost stopped its mad rush and looked around him with a calm, steady gaze.

He had not been to Asgard in centuries. In fact, the last time he’d visited he’d been on his customary tour of duty with the army.

The city-kingdom, he reflected, had not changed much. But then it did not have a lot of space to change in.

The gatekeeper bowed a greeting and directed them both to the bridge outside. There were a lot of arrivals due over the next few days for the wedding and it was important not to hold up the line.

King Dorgen and Queen Mulmyr would not be arriving until the evening, a few hours before the wedding began. Musleen considered them lucky.

“Don’t look so morose,” Camtan said cheerfully beside him and they headed for the waiting carriages. “It’s a wedding, remember, a time to be happy.”

“I am happy,” Musleen commented. “I’m happy for them, very; it’s the ceremony and the party afterwards I’m not sure about. I mean, what is their security like?”

Camtan rolled his eyes. “It’s _Asgard;_ they have Loki with his seidr, Thor with his lightning, King Odin himself with all his power. Everything will be fine.”

Musleen shared a quick glance with Daenceia. She understood his feelings, given what had happened at their own wedding, and Musleen’s security team were still regarded as the best in the nine realms.

“Loki won’t let anything happen to ruin this day,” Camtan said, climbing into the carriage. “After everything he’s been through, he’ll shake the nine realms themselves into submission if he has to.”

That at least was true, and comforting. Musleen leaned back in his seat and tried to relax as the carriage made its way down the length of the Bifrost.

“It’s probably just because I’m not in control,” he admitted. “This is not my realm, and there’s nothing I can do to help. I can’t even review what they’ll be doing. I feel blind.”

Daenceia gave him a smile which warmed him from his head to his toes. Her pregnancy was showing now, and the hormones had given her skin a bright glow of health.

‘Not that she hadn’t looked beautiful before’, Musleen thought loyally. 

“Try to relax,” she said. “The last thing Loki needs is for his friends to worry. He’s bound to be nervous, no matter how far he’s come.”

Musleen took another deep breath. He would be calm. He would be serene. He would have fun.

Daenceia leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” she said softly.

**** 

Loki was not happy. He *should* be happy. He was getting married in a few hours, and certainly the thought of marrying Thor was a happy one. But no, he was not happy, because everything leading up to the wedding was such a load of *fuss*.

His room was filled with servants, and they were all, apparently, necessary. Things were being done, other things were being organised, and all the things were getting on Loki’s nerves.

He was getting married in green and black, with golden armour to accent his clothing. It was decorative armour, and therefore useless for fighting, but it made him feel better to look at it.

Thor was off somewhere, probably in his own room, probably just as frustrated. All Loki wanted was to say his vow, sign the official document, and disappear off into the sunset with his husband. But instead he had to partake in another long, fancy, overly complicated ceremony in front of a lot of people he didn’t care about.

Well, his friends would be there too, and his grandparents, and about three quarters of his cousins and extended family from Vanaheim. They’d been here all week, having had to arrive in stages, and it had been fun to watch them slowly fill up the hall at meal times. Odin had made a strategic withdrawal for the last few days, which had only added to Loki’s amusement.

Haewkyr and Smairken had been among them, although Smairken’s condition was tiring him and making him snappy. Despite that, he had managed to put up with the Aesir healers’ curious stares, and even submitted to a single examination, lasting exactly twenty minutes, with no compromise.

The door to Loki’s room opened and Frigga slipped inside. She took in the chaos with a slight smile, which widened when she saw Loki’s face.

“Not long to go now,” she said cheerfully.

Loki resisted the urge to stick out his tongue. 

“How’s the chaos down there?” he asked instead.

“It’s a well-organised madhouse,” Frigga said. 

She was also looking happy; as well she should be given her newly wedded status, Loki reflected. Lord Kinndyr had wasted absolutely no time in making Frigga his wife and mistress of his vast estate. He had tactfully declined to attend the wedding though, which Loki thought was a kindness that Odin did not deserve.

He knew Frigga and Odin had spoken at length a few nights earlier when she had first arrived. She’d seemed a little melancholy ever since, but not sad or miserable.

“I can’t wait until this is over,” Loki said. “I feel as though I am holding my breath, waiting for something… something…”

He froze and gaze Frigga a look of horror. “I can’t find the words,” he said, exaggerating his expression of distress. “I, Loki, cannot find the words to describe what I feel. This is insanity; I know so many varied words but I can’t find the right ones.”

Frigga laughed and swatted the air above his head in mock-censure. “You feel like every other soon-to-be husband,” she said, “and none of them could find the words either.”

Loki laughed. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said. “This day, and all this fuss, would be horrible to endure without you.”

“Only until the end of the ceremony,” Frigga said with a smile. “After that, you have a whole life together with your soulmate.”

Loki smiled, a dreamy, slightly dazed looked crossed over his face. Then he abruptly straightened it.

“Of course I will. That is the way it was always going to be,” he said determinedly. “There was never a doubt that I’d be Thor’s husband.”

They both knew that his statement was far from true, but on this happy day Loki wanted to pretend for a short while.

Frigga pulled his head down and kissed his forehead. “I am so proud of you,” she said simply, refusing to let him pretend and reminding him of his strength in a single sentence.


	95. Ninety Four Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Price of Comfort

Thor appeared at Loki’s door fifteen minutes before the ceremony was due to start. The guests had been seated, the music was playing, and everything was on schedule.

“Ready?” Thor asked as Loki walked to the door.

“Over-ready,” Loki said, tugging his belt into a better position. “I want to run away with you.”

Thor grinned. “It’s only one day, then we can run away upstairs and…” he trailed off suggestively, making Loki chuckle.

“At least we won’t have an audience for that,” Loki said as they walked downstairs to the throne room.

Thor grimaced. “That’s a barbaric custom,” he said. “Which you will never hear me say out loud within public hearing,” he added quickly as Loki opened his mouth.

“Good,” Loki said, “diplomacy is important, or so I have heard, and Vanaheim are our friends.”

“It’s still weird,” Thor muttered as they descended the stairs.

They reached the doorway together, beyond which almost the entire noble class of five of the nine realms sat waiting to watch them commit to one another.

Loki’s grip tightened on Thor’s hand.

“Last chance to back out,” he said, trying for a light and joking tone but unable to quash the tremble in his voice.

“Never,” Thor swore. “I’ve been your husband since the day we kissed at the lake; all this is just a very loud way of letting everyone else know what is in my heart.”

“Mine too,” Loki said.

Thor shot him a smile and then nodded to the guards at the door.

“We’re ready,” he said.

The guards checked with their communication device. Apparently all was well, because they pulled open the large, heavy doors leading to the crowded hall beyond.

Loki raised his chin and fixed his expression into one of confidence. This was his wedding day, his *real* wedding day. It was also, in a way, his triumph. Odin had not defeated him. The old King had not defeated him. _No-one_ had defeated him.

The music played as, side by side, Loki and Thor walked down the long path to the throne where Odin stood waiting to make their marriage official.

It took a few seconds, but Loki began to notice faces in the crowd. Musleen and Daenceia stood out, as did a grinning Haewkyr, a bored-looking Smairken, a beaming Camtan and, of course, Lord Fallconyr and Lord Eadgleyr, both of whom had tears in their eyes. Frigga was standing beside them, looking as proud as only a parent could be. The warriors four were all there, lined up and smiling. So many people, so many *friends*, and they had all come to wish Loki and Thor well as they took the next step in their lives.

Maybe the whole wedding thing wasn’t such a bad idea after all, Loki reflected.

They reached the platform and stopped, looking up at Odin, who raised his arms and began to speak.

Loki zoned out a little. He’d read the official words earlier, and it was mostly just waffle about joining together, loving and supporting each other. He and Thor had been doing that for long enough now that Loki felt they did not need the reminder. Instead he let his gaze drift up and around, taking in the golden throne and the areas beyond.

‘One day Thor will sit on that throne,’ Loki thought. ‘Actually, one day Thor will say these words over our children as they get married.’

The thought of such a future made him smile as Odin’s voice droned over him.

Then the time came to make their vows. Loki turned and looked up into Thor’s eyes, which were shining with barely-held back tears of joy.

“I vow, on this day and every day that follows, to love you, to support you, to give you strength, and to face the trials of life by your side. I will be your sword, your shield, and your man,” Thor said.

His voice was steady; his gaze was filled with love and adoration.

Loki took a deep breath.

Traditionally he was supposed to promise to be a home for Thor’s body, and a resting place for his head – womanly things. But he and Thor had decided, well, *he’d* decided and Thor had cheerfully agreed, that Loki did not have to make the feminine vow.

“I vow, on this day and every day that follows, to love you, to support you, to give you strength, and to face the trials of life by your side. I will be your sword, your shield, and your man,” Loki said.

There was the tiniest of reactions, hastily smothered, but Loki had never fallen easily into the feminine role and he wasn’t about to start now.

Odin accepted his vow with a nod of his head and raised his arms again as Thor and Loki turned to face the crowd.

Loki found himself looking at King Dorgen, a man he had been proud to serve as a subject, despite how things had begun between them. Dorgen saw his gaze and gave Loki a slight nod of acknowledgement.

“I declare you wed, husband to husband, bound together in life. May your days be filled with happiness,” Odin proclaimed.

There was a momentous cheer as their Vanir cousins called out in celebration. Loki grinned openly as the rest of the crowd took up the cheer. He took Thor’s hand and held it tightly. The roar of the crowd built up into a wall of sound.

The feeling was sudden, a rise in seidr that seemed to come from nowhere. Loki felt it hit him even as he saw the expression on Daenceia’s face change, even as Odin stiffened from behind him. But it was already too late to react.

The man was *there* in an instant, jumping out a portal and tossing something right at the newly married couple. Loki barely had time to register the man’s face before there was a crash, followed by a wave of powerful magic that threw Loki off his feet and backwards, stopping only when he crashed into the throne behind him.

Then there were screams, and a rush of guards. It was too fast, too fast. Loki fought to understand what was happening even as he was grabbed and pulled away, out of the throne room and down the passageways to a safe room.

“What happened? What happened?!” he yelled, trying to fight them off. “Where’s Thor?!”

A few seconds later Frigga appeared in the doorway, running across the room to pull Loki into her arms.

“Where’s Thor?” Loki asked again, feeling as though the world was trembling beneath his feet.

Frigga’s face was white with shock.

“Thor is gone,” she said, her voice was rough with disbelief and emotion. “A portal opened up and swallowed him.”

It was like she hadn’t spoken. All Loki could think was that it was a mistake, that Thor was out there, right now, and that any second he would come to Loki’s side.

“Loki? Darling? Can you hear me? Thor was taken by a portal, he was sucked away. They have the man; they stopped him from doing more damage. We’ll find out what happened, we will,” Frigga said.

“Ellumer,” Loki said at last.

Frigga frowned in confusion. “What?” she asked.

“Ellumer,” Loki said. “The man’s name is Ellumer. I’ve seen him before. He was the wife of Woalfen, and brother-in-law to Fomalen.”

****

Ellumer had been rather unhappy these last ten years or so. He’d gone from living in absolute luxury in the greatest palace in the nine realms to living in a prison for his ‘crimes’. Oh, yes, crimes. But what had he done, really? Alright, he’d failed to support King Dorgen and had actively benefited from Fomalen’s takeover, but how was that *his* fault? 

Ellumer had gotten by on his looks, his charm, and his rather adventurous attitude to sex, specifically using sex to get what he wanted, which was money and luxury. 

He’d caught Fomalen’s eye fairly early on in life, when the prince had been far, far, faaaaaar down the chain of succession. They’d fucked, and fucked well, before Fomalen had passed Ellumer off to his older brother. Ellumer had gotten the luxury he’d craved, and the only partially-divided attention of an otherwise quite decent husband.

Since being released from prison, however, life had been nothing but hard. Being married to a traitor was hardly an endorsement of his character, and the nobles who had clamoured to be his friend at the height of Fomalen’s reign had spurned him as a jumped-up commoner the moment his protection was dead.

In short, he had very little to lose and a lot of anger to fuel him. Loki, Prince Loki, the former Queen and personal slut of the last King of Vanaheim was personally responsible for Fomalen’s downfall and Ellumer’s subsequent hardship. It only made sense to hurt him back.

Fomalen had often left possessions at Woalfen’s estate. He had a workroom there, and Ellumer knew what he had to do. Fomalen had left Woalfen instructions as to what should be done should something ever happen to him. Ellumer didn’t care about that, he only knew that one of the devices could be used to open a very special portal.

“Helheim,” Odin said flatly, staring at Ellumer as he sat in chains.

“Yes,” Ellumer said smugly. “Prince Thor has been sucked into Helheim. Not his soul either, his whole being. There is no life there, no food, and no water. He will perish quickly, he will never return, no-one may ever return from Helheim, you know that. Everyone knows that.”

Fury blazed in Odin’s eyes but Ellumer was past caring. He hoped that Loki lived for a long time knowing only pain and loss.

“Lock him away for now,” Odin growled. “I’ll want to question him again.”

Ellumer laughed as they dragged him to a cell. He laughed for hours.

****

Loki was in shock. Thor was *gone*. It had taken less than a second, and inattention by the guards, for Loki to go from being the happiest man in the nine realms to the most devastated.

It was now several hours later. The visitors had all gone home as quickly as they could. There had been no feast, no celebrations, just increased patrols and a furious Aesir population.

“I’ll have to rescue him,” Loki said, his voice was unnaturally calm.

“Of course we will try,” Frigga said at once. “King Dorgen has already ordered the Tower mages to research a way to reach Helheim, he did so as soon as he arrived home, and Prince Musleen has sent his men to turn over Woalfen’s estate from top to bottom to see if they can find anything to help.”

Loki nodded. He had not cried or screamed. It was like something had shut off inside of him while he dealt with what had happened.

“How was he even able to get in to the throne room?” Sif asked the air. “The other realms are all concerned about their safety when visiting, and our enemies are laughing at how easy it was.”

“There will be an investigation,” Fandral said. “The palace guards can take care of it while we find a way to rescue Thor.”

The door opened and Odin walked in.

“Ellumer used a portal,” Odin said, cutting straight to the point. “He opened one right in to the throne room from Vanaheim itself. I have already ordered the shielding on the palace strengthened and changed.”

“How did he manage that? He has no magic, does he?” Frigga asked.

Odin scowled. “Fomalen spent many years here; he traded his weapons with the palace. It appears he studied our defences carefully, and left behind some kind of… pre-cast portal. I’ve never heard of such a thing before, but it only needed activating to work, the magic was already there, according to Prince Musleen’s preliminary report.”

Loki nodded slowly. “Fomalen was not that powerful of a mage,” he said. “But he made up for it by finding ways of storing power. He was very innovative. I have no doubt that once we find out how his portal spell worked we’ll be able to reproduce it and go and rescue Thor. But we must do so quickly, he’s running out of time.”

Odin pulled over a chair and sat down facing Loki, much to Loki’s confusion. Odin rarely treated them as being on equal footing, having gone from superior to guilt ridden without any time spent between.

“I will certainly be sending our finest warriors, but you Loki, you cannot go with them,” Odin said, looking Loki clearly in the eye.

“He’s my husband!” Loki shouted, his temper flaring up in an instant.

“And without him you are the Crown Prince of Asgard,” Odin countered. “If Thor cannot be brought back then you will be the next King. You cannot risk your life to go to a realm that no one has ever returned from.”

Loki scowled. The temperature of the room began to drop until everyone’s breath became visible.

“Loki?” Fandral said uncertainly.

“I will help analyse the spell,” Loki said.

“Promise me you won’t go after Thor yourself,” Odin said. “Swear it to me, Loki.”

Loki held his gaze for a long time as everyone began to shiver. “I swear I won’t go after Thor,” Loki said at last. “This I swear once, this I swear twice, this I swear thrice.”

Odin relaxed. “Thank you. I know you are hurting, and believe me, I will send our finest warriors; I will send an army if that’s what it takes. As soon as we have a way through I will send them”

Loki nodded curtly. “I would like to rest now,” he said suddenly.

Everyone filed out of the room, leaving him alone.

“Fools,” Loki said, rising from his chair. “I won’t go after Thor, I’ll go after Fomalen, the fact that I might run into Thor down there and rescue him in passing is just a co-incidence.”

He looked back and the door and shook his head. There had been a time when Odin would not have let him get away with such a vague promise.

Loki went to his bedside table, reached into the little storage box on top and pulled out his grandmother’s amulet.

“Lord Eadgleyr?” he said. “Are you there? I need a favour. I need to speak to Musleen.”

****

Musleen was quietly furious. It was true that he’d had no control over the security of Loki’s wedding, but the security breach had not come from Asgard, it had started in Vanaheim, *his* domain.

Logically speaking it was not his fault that this had occurred. Ellumer had been released after his time had been served and he’d been under observation ever since. As Woalfen’s widow he’d inherited all of Woalfen’s lands, but most of that had been lost in restitutions to the crown for the damage Woalfen had caused under Fomalen. Ellumer had, by all accounts, been living quietly and humbly in the last property remaining to him, a little summer cottage in a small woodland area. It hadn’t been worth much, and Dorgen hadn’t bothered with the headache of claiming ownership. There had been no way to see this coming.

And yet, Musleen was still furious. Fomalen had been a psychological master, with boundless patience and a knack for innovative backup plans. When Musleen’s guards had searched the cottage this time around they had found a workroom built beneath it, cleverly hidden from their most powerful magic. If Ellumer hadn’t left the door open it would still be hidden now.

Fomalen would have known that the work required for the crown to claim the cottage from Woalfen’s estate wouldn’t be worth the gain of having it. He would have relied on that fact. But the question was… why?

Why would Fomalen need a secret store room? When he had control over Vanaheim he must have known that he would either succeed, making the room irrelevant, or he would fail, making him a traitor who would never be allowed to live free again under any circumstances.

It took a few hours, but when the report came back Musleen was shocked at Fomalen’s audacity. The room had been designed with one clear purpose in mind: to assassinate the King of Asgard. The portal had been carefully constructed to take into account all of their defences, and to transport the user right next to the throne. Clearly, at one point in the past, Fomalen had planned to kill King Odin.

Or maybe in the future, King Thor.

Either way, Ellumer had taken advantage of the portal’s existence to do untold damage to relations between Asgard and Vanaheim, not to mention break Loki’s heart.

Musleen would give anything to be able to interrogate the man, but he was locked away in Asgard, never to return to Vanaheim again.

“Excuse me, your Grace, but Lord Eadgleyr is here,” said the servant at the door.

Musleen raised an eyebrow. Lord Eadgleyr was a man he respected, but had not had much to do with previously.

Of course he was also Loki’s grandmother, so Musleen would have to be a fool not to know what this visit was about.

“Send him in,” he said, closing the report and straightening in his chair.

Lord Eadgleyr was shown in and Musleen immediately gestured for him to sit.

“I bring you a message, your Grace,” Lord Eadgleyr said.

“From Loki?” Musleen asked.

“Who else?” Lord Eadgleyr answered. “He wants to speak with you about the investigation. He wants access to the information about the portal, not the one that let Ellumer into Asgard, but the one that sent Thor to Helheim. Are you able to speak to him? He is under tight security at the moment and with the Aesir-Vanir relations as they are-“

“I know, and I understand. Of course I will speak to him. Did Loki say if Odin was blaming Vanaheim in any way?” Musleen asked.

Lord Eadgleyr shook his head. “I do not believe so, the actions of one man can hardly be predicted. I believe the nobility understand that, even if the rest of the population is uneasy.”

Musleen nodded. “Does *Loki* blame us?” he asked. “After all he’s been through, and all he did to help us, for something like this to have slipped by us, by *me*.”

“Loki most definitely does not blame you, or Vanaheim, or anyone but Ellumer himself,” Lord Eadgleyr said firmly. “But he is quite anxious to rescue Thor.”

Lord Eadgleyr reached into his robe and pulled out an amulet, which he put down on Musleen’s desk. “I suggest you go for a walk outside the palace, your Grace,” he said. “I hope things can be resolved. I don’t think Thor has a lot of time.”

Musleen frowned in confusion as Lord Eadgleyr left the room, but then he raised an eyebrow in wry understanding. He had not been friends with Loki for centuries without developing the ability to predict a *little* of the man’s likely actions.

He took the amulet for a walk. He’d no sooner cleared the gate to the palace when the amulet glowed bright enough to hurt his eyes. When the light faded, Loki was standing in its place, looking impatient.

“That took too long,” he said. “I was tempted to jump right into the palace, extra security be damned.”

“You would have broken the seals and been caught in a moment,” Musleen said. “I brought my report.”

He handed it over and watched as Loki read it eagerly.

“We need to find a way into Helheim,” Loki said.

“That part is regrettably easy,” Musleen said. “The instructions were written clearly in one of Fomalen’s notebooks. It’s getting back out of Helheim that we can’t figure out yet.”

Loki flipped to the section on the Helheim portal and scanned it quickly.

“This can’t be right,” he said after a few minutes. “Musleen, this is insane.”

“It was Fomalen,” Musleen pointed out. “But what part are you referring to?”

“Ellumer didn’t choose this destination on purpose, or even by accident,” Loki said. “This spell was always designed to send someone to Helheim, but not just anywhere in Helheim, to one specific place.”

Musleen frowned. “Where?” he asked.

“Not where,” Loki said, “who. The spell is locked onto a person.”

“Who could Fomalen possible want to visit in Helheim?” Musleen asked.

“Himself,” Loki said, closing the report. “The spell was designed to send someone to visit *him*. Musleen, this isn’t a standard travel spell, it’s a resurrection spell. I think Fomalen left it behind in case something happened to him, so that he had a way back from the dead.”

“Does that mean Thor’s down there with Fomalen right now?” Musleen asked.

Loki nodded. “Probably, and according to this, if Fomalen’s spirit can take over Thor’s body, he’ll be able to return, and Thor will cease to exist.”

“So how do we follow him?” Musleen asked.

“We?” Loki asked.

“Do you really think I’m going to let Fomalen get away with this?” Musleen said. 

"You are about to be a father," Loki reminded him.

Musleen gave him a very... old fashioned look. "Daenceia will want to help you figure out what we need to do, I'm sure" he said. “But make no mistake, I’m in, this is realm security and she knows what she married into. Now, how do we do it?”

“I’ll make a list of what I need, if I follow these instructions we should be ready to go in a few hours,” Loki said.


	96. Ninety Five Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Honeymoon in Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, Queen Hel is not related to Loki in this story because there is no way in which that would work. Let's all just assume that us crazy mortals lost half the original origin story of Hel and patched it up incorrectly over time when compiling the history.
> 
> And on we go...

It had been twenty hours since the wedding had been disrupted, and five hours since Loki had demanded ‘rest’ and quietly disappeared from Asgard. He now sat in Daenceia’s workroom in the Vanir palace, pouring over Fomalen’s notebooks and trying to work out what they needed to do to travel safely to Helheim and back.

King Dorgen, having been informed of Loki’s presence, had quietly contacted Odin to diplomatically let him know that his son was once again ignoring the travel protocol for foreign princes, but, under the circumstances (and honestly, because it was *Loki*), both sides agreed to ignore the behaviour.

“At least,” Odin had said wearily, “at least he is doing something to help which will keep him occupied. I never truly expected him to sit still throughout all of this.”

“If he figures it out he’s going to want to go,” Dorgen pointed out.

“I know, hopefully if that happens I’ll be able to convince him to let me send the army in his place,” Odin said.

Loki meanwhile, was almost in tears from frustration. Thor had gone twenty hours without water, longer, actually, because in the lead up to the wedding he’d been busy getting ready and probably hadn’t drunk anything unless he felt thirsty.

And Loki was no closer to solving the puzzle.

“We can get there,” he said, “but I can’t see anywhere in Fomalen’s notes about how he planned to get back.”

Daenceia laid her hands across her stomach, betraying her nervousness. “Maybe Fomalen didn’t solve it,” she said, voicing Loki’s worst fear. “Maybe he was still working on it when he died.”

Loki realised his hands were trembling and clenched them tightly together. “Then I will solve it,” he said. “I will solve it where he failed.”

But his voice was shaking, Thor would already be weak, he didn’t have much time left.

The door opened and Musleen stuck his head in. “Any progress?” he asked.

He could tell from their expressions that they were still struggling.

“I have requested, and been granted, permission from King Dorgen to step through into Helheim,” he said.

“We have no way back yet,” Daenceia said.

Musleen nodded. “That’s why I’ll be taking enough camping equipment and supplies to last two months.”

Loki’s head shot up. “You’d go through without a way back?” he asked.

Musleen nodded. “I know you’ll solve it, there has to be a way, so in the meantime, I will keep Thor alive, and, if in two months you do not have an answer, some of my men have volunteered to be sent after me with fresh supplies. We won’t let him die, Loki, I promise you that.”

“We could just send the supplies?” Daenceia suggested.

“We have no way of knowing whether Thor will find them,” Loki said. “The first trip needs to have at least one person who can find *him*, after that, it may be possible to drop the supplies in the same place each time.”

Musleen nodded. “I’ve already ordered the supplies made ready; you can set up what you need in the courtyard. I should go as soon as possible; Thor has already been out there a day without water.”

Loki nodded and rose, grabbing Fomalen’s notes and heading for the door. “I’ll need a number of crystals, and the list of other components is here. I’ll ask the Tower for supplies right now,” he said hurrying out the door.

Musleen and Daenceia were left alone as Loki hurried away.

“Does it have to be you?” she asked in the silence.

“I can’t ask my men,” Musleen said. “Some have already volunteered, but I cannot ask them to go where I won’t, many of them have families too.”

She bit her lip and swallowed hard. “I know what I married,” she said at last. “I knew, going into all of this, that what you did was dangerous. But until now it was always a danger I could see, real people, with real weapons, and agendas, and emotions. But now you’re walking into Helheim, and we don’t know how to bring you back yet. What if we can never find a way?”

Musleen pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. “Then it will truly be Hel, because I’ll be without you,” he said, pressing his cheek to the top of her head. “But I have to go, Loki can’t see it, he’s too blinded by his loss right now, but this attack came from Vanaheim, it was our systems that failed, and the Crown Prince of Asgard that suffered for it. Odin doesn’t want a war, but his people? Those same people Thor helped and supported all through the famine while we were cut off and they were starving? They blame us. They are arguing amongst themselves in the taverns already. Our joint army has already had fights break out in the ranks. This is going to go very badly if we don’t do something soon. If I go, then we will show them that Vanaheim *the realm* is still their ally, even if one Vanir is not.”

Daenceia blinked back her tears with an effort. “You are the most expendable person in this family,” she said bitterly.

“I like to think I’m the most qualified, actually,” Musleen said dryly. “Don’t think this wasn’t a hard decision for Dorgen to make. He said no several time before agreeing that this was the best course of action. But I was never going to let Camtan go, and Occtir is still with the army, trying to keep our men in line through the rising tension. It has to be me.”

“I won’t stop looking until I find a way back for you,” Daenceia said, pulling back and locking her gaze onto his. “I swear to you, this will not be a one way trip.”

Musleen smiled his rare smile, “I never doubted that, my love, not for one second,” he said. “Now let’s go, you need to help Loki before he gets impatient and decides to jump in himself.”

****

Loki was getting more anxious by the second. It had now been twenty three hours since Thor had been sucked into Helheim, twenty three hours without anything to drink, and as much as Loki knew that a man could survive about three days without water, he also knew that he couldn’t rely on that fact. 

Thor *could* have found a handy cave and been quietly hiding there, resting carefully and conserving his strength, but he could equally have encountered something horrifying and been forced to stay on the run this entire time.

Loki didn’t know, and the thought terrified him. He double checked and triple checked the spell components, but even so he was afraid that something would go wrong. The original spell had thrown the throne room into complete disarray; it had generated a lot of power that had been dissipated as a physical force, but why? Why had that been necessary? Unless Daenceia’s theory that Fomalen had not finished his research proved to be true, in which case should Loki reduce the power elements of the spell? Or should he trust that Fomalen knew what he was doing?

It was too many questions, and Thor’s life in danger was making it hard for Loki to think.

Musleen appeared with Daenceia at his side. He was followed by Dorgen, who was looking grave, and Burtchen, his second in command, who was glancing around the courtyard like he expected something to jump out at them any moment. 

Musleen wore armour, another thing Thor did not have (no, decorative armour did *not* count, that stuff was useless), and carried two swords strapped to his side and a large battle axe on his back.

Mjolnir had been left in Thor’s room for the ceremony, and there it would remain. No one could carry it anyway, so Thor would have to make do with whatever they could send to him, although Loki noted with interest that the axe in question appeared to have last been seen in the hands of one Haewkyr Owelyrson, and as such was of extremely good quality.

Loki was trembling again. He needed to stay calm, but what they were doing was risky for all of them, not to mention that one of his best friends was volunteering to be sent by experimental portal to a realm with no known way back, just to try and keep Loki’s husband alive.

Loki wanted to tell Musleen to stop. He wanted to hold out his hands and say it wasn’t worth the risk, that it was foolish, that they weren’t thinking of the bigger picture.

But he couldn’t. Thor needed help, and Loki was willing to let Musleen take the risk. He felt so selfish, and yet he still said nothing as Burtchen helped Musleen strap the most important packs to his back and carefully gather the others around him.

“Are you ready?” Musleen asked Loki, startling him out of his thoughts.

“Are you?” Loki countered, trying to quash the feeling of guilt he felt in his stomach.

Musleen nodded at Burtchen. “You’re in charge of Realm Security until I get back,” he said. 

Burtchen nodded. “Good luck, your Grace,” he said.

Dorgen took a small step forwards and spoke. “King Odin has given us his blessing to try,” he said. “If it works, he’ll be sending some warriors after you in order to help. I believe Thor’s closest friends have already volunteered.”

‘Of course they had,’ Loki thought, which brought the first smile to his face since the whole ordeal began. “Would that include General Hogun?” he asked.

Dorgen nodded. “General Hogun has my permission, this will end up being a joint venture between our two realms, let’s hope that we can succeed.”

Musleen turned back to Loki. “Begin,” he said.

Loki glanced nervously at Daenceia, but she was standing stoically at the edge of the spelled area. Her chin was up and her eyes were dry.

Loki swallowed hard and stepped up to open the portal. It wasn’t easy. Fomalen must have spent hours, if not days, carefully placing exactly what he needed into the crystal Ellumer had thrown. Loki was trying to recreate it with eight hours of study and no test run.

He stuck to the notes, hoping desperately that Fomalen had truly known what it was he was doing.

It was difficult. The realm he was trying to breach had protections thought to be impenetrable, and even with the spell behind him Loki could feel that the walls did not want to give way.

He pushed through, working his way through the carefully arranged words as the guiding symbols on the ground began to glow brighter and brighter.

Then, like a cork under pressure that suddenly gives way, the spell punched through and the portal opened.

Loki knew the second it happened that something was wrong, but to try and pull the spell back was suicide. He pushed it through instead, balancing and controlling energies great enough to crush a mountain into nothingness. He heard the cries of alarm from the courtyard, but there was nothing he could do. With a last great effort, he pushed the spell through to its conclusion.

When he opened his eyes, he was in Helheim.

****

Musleen was shaking his shoulder, a frown of concern on his face.

“Loki? Can you hear me? Loki?” he said.

“Yes,” Loki gasped. He felt as though he’d been dropped from a great height, or maybe had a great height dropped on him. He couldn’t tell, his thoughts were a little mixed up. “That wasn’t meant to happen,” he said.

“So I assumed,” Musleen said.

“So we all assumed,” said Daenceia from further away.

Loki sat up, groaned, grabbed his head, leaned over sideways and threw up.

Musleen carefully pulled Loki’s hair back and waited for him to finish.

“Who else is here?” Loki asked.

“No one,” Musleen said. “Burtchen pulled Dorgen back as soon as the portal began expanding. Daenceia tried to reach you and got sucked in.”

“The rest of the guards got clear,” Daenceia added. “And I’d do it again, Loki was our best shot at researching a way back, they should have tried harder to grab him.”

“If they’d interrupted me I’m pretty sure the spell would have backfired and killed us all,” Loki said. “It worked, but something was wrong, something about the power flow was off.”

“Well,” Musleen said, “for better or worse we’re all here now, so our first objective should be finding Thor and making sure that he is alright. The mages at the Tower will continue to study the spell; in time they will find a way to bring us back.”

Loki forced himself to his feet. He was weak and his head was spinning, but the thought of Thor out there struggling was too much to bear. “We have to start looking for Thor,” he said.

“Lie down,” Daenceia said. “I’m already working on a tracking device; you should get some rest while I figure out where we need to go.”

Loki tried to rise again. “I need to find my husband,” he said. “I was only married to him for a minute before I lost sight of him, this is unacceptable.”

“At least you got married,” Musleen pointed out with a twinkle in his eye. “I mean, you made it through the ceremony.”

Loki’s mouth twisted upwards in spite of himself. “I suppose,” he conceded, “we did manage to do that.”

“Have some water,” Musleen said, offering Loki a bottle. “You have to take care of yourself if you want to be able to help Thor.”

Loki gave him a look. Musleen knew exactly what to say to make him comply, and the fact that Loki knew that didn’t change the outcome. He took the bottle.

“Where are we?” he asked, looking around.

“We found a cave,” Musleen said. “It seems like as good a place as any to set up camp until we know what we’ll be doing.”

Loki nodded slowly; his head was still pounding, although it was starting to ease a little.

“What are you using to track Thor?” he asked.

“Your ring,” Daenceia said. “He gave it to you, and as far as I know it’s the closest thing to a possession of his that we have, although I can’t say it’s easy, he didn’t spend a lot of time holding it.”

Loki reached into his belt and pulled out the knife Thor had given him for his coming of age present, all those centuries ago. “Try this,” he said. “Thor gave it to me as well, but more importantly, he’s the one who cast the spell on it, as best he could.”

Daenceia turned and took the knife with interest. “Oh yes,” she said after a minute. “It is different to your seidr, I didn’t detect it before though; your seidr is too strong.”

Loki shrugged. He was too exhausted to do more. He dozed on and off as Daenceia worked. He wanted nothing more to jump up and go and find Thor, but his body most definitely had other ideas.

The next time Loki woke, Musleen wasn’t there.

“The tracking spell worked. Thor is about an hour’s hike away,” Daenceia explained. “Musleen took some supplies and went to get him while you rest.”

Loki scowled. “I should go,” he said, trying to rise.

“He’s already been gone an hour, with luck he’s with Thor right now,” Daenceia said. “Be sensible, Loki, I know you don’t want to hear it, believe me, I’m having a hard time sitting here while Musleen goes out there alone, but we have to be careful, finding Thor is only the first step. The next step is to survive, together, and that means we rest when we can and be cautious.”

Loki sighed heavily. “I know you’re right,” he admitted, “I just don’t want you to be.”

Daenceia smile and sat back, resting her hands over her stomach.

“Is everything alright?” Loki asked.

“Everything’s fine,” Daenceia said. “I’m from commoner stock, remember? My people are used to doing hard work right up until they are due to give birth, and in addition, I’ve been quite lucky with my pregnancy, after the first months of sickness faded I’ve been feeling quite well.”

“Is it kicking yet?” Loki asked.

Daenceia giggled. “For the last two months now. This little one is going to be a dancer like their mother, or a fighter like their father, maybe both.”

Loki grinned. “Definitely both,” he said. “Hopefully it will also get it’s father’s singing voice.”

“As long as it doesn’t get it’s uncle's,” Daenceia said.

Loki grimaced in memory. “Camtan has a lot of desirable qualities, singing is not one of them,” he said.

Another hour passed slowly, but Musleen and Thor did not appear. Both Daenceia and Loki tried hard to pretend they weren’t worried.

After a further half hour, Daenceia picked up her mage-kit. “I’m going to check the tracking spell again to see if they’re any closer,” she said.

Loki just nodded. He felt a lot better physically after his rest, but the worry was making him sick.

Daenceia was silent for a few minutes, but then breathed out a little in relief. “Thor is now fifteen minutes hike away,” she said. “They’re on their way.”

“He’ll be tired,” Loki said, “and moving slowly because of it. I hope he’s not injured.”

“Musleen took a medical bag with him, any injuries that can be patched up will be,” Daenceia said to reassure him.

It was another half hour before they saw them on the horizon. Helheim was a cold, barren place that appeared to be deserted, although there was always a nagging feeling of being watched that left them both feeling rattled.

Loki sat by the entrance of the cave and watched them as they covered the last of the ground. He barely even blinked as the two figures made their way slowly over the rocks and mounds that made up Helheim’s landscape.

When they were close enough, Loki left the cave and ran down to meet them.

Thor’s arm was hanging over Musleen’s shoulders and he was breathing heavily. But at the sight of Loki he straightened and his face lit up.

Loki pulled Thor into a hard embrace as a wave of relief washed over him. It was hard to believe that it had been less than two days since they’d last seen each other.

“I was so worried,” Loki breathed into Thor’s ear. “Thor, my Thor, I was so afraid for you.”

Thor hugged him tightly back. “You’re alright,” he gasped. “You’re alright. After the explosion and the portal I wasn’t sure, Loki I thought you would have been injured, maybe even killed.”

“I told you he was fine,” Musleen said quietly, scanning the horizon with suspicious eyes.

“I had to see it,” Thor insisted. “I had to see him safe and whole.”

“We should get back into the cave,” Musleen said. “I don’t like this feeling, like we’re being watched.”

Loki helped Thor to walk back to the cave, where Daenceia guarded her things with a sword across her lap.

“Let me get you some water,” Loki said, helping Thor to sit down. “And you can tell me what you’ve been doing these last two days.”

Thor put his head back against the cave wall gratefully.

“Nothing,” he said. “I’ve been doing nothing. I arrived in a rush of energy which threw me over the land until I came to a rather violent stop. I know I originally came down near people, but the spell threw me past them out to here. I think this is on the edge of Helheim. 

“It seems likely,” Musleen said. “We may actually be fairly safe here, away from the souls of the dead and the Guards of Queen Hel.”

“I remember meeting her once as a child,” Loki said. “She wasn’t very friendly.”

“She certainly takes a dim view of those passing through her borders,” Thor said. “I think she wants to discourage people from trying to rescue their relatives. But Musleen said it was an ally of Fomalen’s who attacked us? Because of your role in the war?”

This last question was directed at Loki, who nodded. “As near as we can tell, there are two things going on here,” Loki said. “The first one is pure revenge. Ellumer lost everything in the war and wanted to hurt me by killing you. The spells he used however weren’t originally meant for that.”

“No,” Musleen interjected. “Ellumer doesn’t even have seidr, but he was an ally of Fomalen, who did.”

“More importantly, Fomalen specialised in spells that could be… pre-cast? And only required activation at the time of use in order to work,” Loki continued. “He used them to escape his cell despite having his seidr bound, and he used them to keep multiple spells going or ready to go just when he needed them. He was a genius, pity he was an ambitious fool.”

“So Ellumer grabs the pre-cast crystal, uses the pre-cast portal to get straight from Vanaheim to Asgard’s throne room, and transports you to Helheim before anyone realised what he had done,” Musleen finished. “He’s in custody now,” he added. “And if King Odin has his way Ellumer will be in Helheim himself before too long, legitimately so.”

Thor pulled a face. “Why did Fomalen want to go to Helheim?” he asked. “Did he think to make a treaty with Queen Hel?”

Loki and Musleen exchanged glances. “No,” Loki said. “As far as I can tell, he wanted to use the spell to bring back his spirit in the event that he died. I believe Ellumer was supposed to transport *himself* here, or maybe a luckless victim. Fomalen would then use their physical form to travel back to Vanaheim and pick up where he left off.”

Thor pulled a face. “Could he do that?” he asked. “Can one person take over another completely like that?”

“Normally no,” Daenceia said. “Normally in order to take over another person’s mind you need to leave your own body vulnerable, and if you leave it too long it will die and so will you, but Fomalen has no body to worry about, if he can get out of Helheim, then he can *stay* out of Helheim.”

“So how do we get out?” Thor asked.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

“Let me tell you the rest of the story,” Loki said as Musleen grimaced and Daenceia looked away. 

Thor narrowed his eyes. “Go on,” he said cautiously.

“Let me start by saying I never intended to rush into things,” Loki said. “Things rushed into me.”

“We have no way back, do we.” Thor said. It wasn’t really a question.

“Not yet,” Loki confirmed. “But everyone is working on it.”

Thor sighed and took another drink of water. “This wasn’t the honeymoon we wanted, but frankly, given our history, I’m not surprised that it’s the one we got,” he said to Loki. “But if I had to go to Helheim, I’m glad I’ve got you by my side.”


	97. Ninety Six Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discovery

Helheim was gloomy. A permanent twilight cast over a grey landscape with a constant steady wind that chilled Loki to the bone.

He hated it here. It had been four days and already he felt like lashing out. 

It was affecting the others as well. Musleen had gone almost completely silent, Daenceia had taken to sighing every other breath, and Thor wouldn’t stop pacing.

“We should move,” Loki said at last.

“No. If they solve the spell and send people after us then we need to be nearby,” Musleen said after a very long pause.

“Not move far,” Loki clarified, “just to another cave or something. I need to *move*.”

The last word was more of a moan. This place was not made for the living, and it was sucking the life right out of their bones.

“Perhaps we could find Queen Hel and ask for her mercy,” Thor suggested.

There was another long silence.

“She’d kill us,” Loki said at last.

Everything felt hopeless. Everything felt like too much effort. Everything felt… wrong.

“Fine,” Musleen said at last. “We’ll go and find another cave to stay in.”

They split up, Musleen and Daenceia went one way, Thor and Loki another.

They walked for a few hours, letting the exercise shake them from their melancholy. In fact, the more they moved the better they felt.

“It’s got to be something in the air, or maybe the light,” Loki said. “But I think we need to travel each day, we need to move, otherwise I think we’ll just lie down until we die.”

“I agree with you,” Thor said. “But we need to be careful, look over there, I can see the spirits on the edge of the horizon.”

Loki squinted, he could make out hundreds of tiny figures. “How far away from them do you think we are?” he asked.

Thor shrugged. “It’s hard to tell in this light; hard to judge distance in this realm at all,” he said.

That much was true. When they did turn and head back they got turned around and lost three separate times before finally arriving back at the cave.

Musleen and Daenceia were waiting for them, both sitting still and silent in the gloom.

“We can’t let Hel get to us,” Loki said. “We need to move, and stay moving. I know Thor and I felt better when we did.”

Silence. They barely glanced at Loki when he spoke.

Loki frowned and shook Musleen’s shoulder. “Did you hear me?” he asked, concerned.

Eventually Musleen looked up at him.

“We didn’t find a cave,” he said. His voice was very slow, he sounded almost drugged.

Loki and Thor exchanged concerned glances.

“We need to get them out of here,” Loki said. “Make them move.”

Thor nodded. “Loki? Do you think it might be something more than the movement?” he asked. “We headed towards the people, they went the other way, maybe it’s the life of the spirits that made us feel better, heading away from the centre certainly seemed to make these two worse.”

Loki nodded thoughtfully. “We’ll soon find out,” he said. “Grab everything you can, we’ll move now.”

Thor piled packs of supplies across his back as Loki pulled Musleen to his feet.

“Come on,” he said, “you have to help Daenceia.”

It took a minute, but Musleen blinked hard and seemed to wake slightly out of his stupor. “What’s wrong with her?” he asked.

Loki forced Daenceia to stand. “We need to get walking,” he said. “Musleen, you help Daenceia over the rocks.”

Slowly the party set out. Thor and Loki carried the packs while Musleen and Daenceia staggered in the general direction they were herded. It would have been funny if Loki hadn’t been so worried.

After about half an hour they both seemed brighter.

After another half hour Musleen took some of the supplies from Thor’s back and carried them himself.

“Feeling better?” Loki asked.

“Yes,” he said. “I felt so… empty before. I felt as though someone had turned off something inside of me. All I wanted to do was sleep.”

Loki nodded. “We’re not sure why, although Thor has a theory, but the further we are from the edge the less drained we feel.”

“I think Helheim runs on its citizens,” Thor said. “Or maybe the palace is at the centre and Queen Hel’s power comes from there.”

“Does that mean we will be meeting people soon?” Daenceia asked, taking a bag from Loki. He tried to stop her but she gave him a stern look until he gave in.

“Hopefully not,” Loki said instead. “We might be able to stay along the edge, just out of sight.”

They travelled onwards for a few more hours until they could see the spirits in the distance. 

“We’re far from the place where we arrived,” Loki said. “I hope anyone who follows us does not have trouble finding out where we went.”

“This is close to the place I first landed,” Thor said. “I remember hitting the ground hard and bouncing until I could barely see straight. They might come down the same way.”

“That’s odd,” Musleen said. “We didn’t bounce.”

“We had Loki,” Daenceia pointed out. 

They set up a new camp on the far side of a large rock, out of sight of the spirits, but still close enough to see them easily. They were all moving far better than before, and their chatter had returned.

“I never want to feel that way again,” Loki said to Thor that night as they were cuddled up together. “I remember one time… with… with him, that I woke one morning and just *couldn’t*.”

“Couldn’t what?” Thor asked gently.

“Care,” Loki answered. “I couldn’t care about myself, my life, getting up, pretending. I ran out of ‘could’.”

“What happened?” Thor asked.

Loki shrugged. “Fosxyr talked them into letting me spend the day in bed, I think he told them I was sick, and at the end of the day three quarters of the royal family were poisoned and I found a reason to get up again.”

Thor hugged him a little tighter for a moment. “Never again,” he said. “I swear to you, Loki, I will never give you any reason to feel that way ever again in your life.”

Loki kissed him gently on the lips. “I know that,” he said, “that’s just one of the many, many reasons that I love you.”

****

Five more days passed, and the group, collectively, began to get worried. Musleen had originally taken enough supplies for two people to survive for two months. With four of them, that became one month. Technically they didn’t have to become worried for another three weeks, but with Loki, their most powerful mage, trapped on the wrong side of the portal, they were all concerned that those left behind wouldn’t actually be able to open another one to send more supplies through.

“We have a choice to make,” Thor said. “We can stay here and wait for rescue, or we can travel to the centre and contact Queen Hel. It is possible that Odin has already done so, although I know that would create significant tension between our three realms.”

“I wish we could find our own way back,” Loki said. “But I don’t even know where to begin. I studied Fomalen’s notes for the shortest possible time before opening the portal, and I have nothing to work on here.”

“He must have known that he would have limited resources on this side,” Daenceia said. “He had no guarantee that whoever came after him would bring everything he needed.”

“He may have told them what to pack,” Loki said.

“Is it just me,” Musleen said, peering out from behind their rock, “or are the spirits a lot closer than they were when we arrived?”

The group peeked out. Loki’s eyebrows went up. Thor frowned, and Daenceia made a ‘hmm’ sound.

“They are getting closer,” Loki said. 

“I think Helheim is expanding,” Musleen said calmly. “When you think about it, both our realms, as well as a quite a few others, have their spirits transported here when they die. Natural deaths must occur all the time.”

Loki let his breath out in a sigh of realisation. “That’s why we landed right on the edge,” he said. “That’s where Fomalen expected to be right after he died. “I’m betting he wasn’t planning on being here long enough to get swallowed up by the crowd.”

“Too bad for him,” Daenceia said. “But you’re right, they are closer. In fact I think we might be overtaken if we’re not careful.”

Another week went past and the group was forced to move their camp. Their supplies were becoming a real concern.

“They might not feel the need to send anything until later in the month,” Loki said, trying to stay optimistic. “It gives them more time to solve the problem of getting back.”

“It’s unlike Dorgen not to send a message after something has gone wrong,” Musleen countered. “Although there’s a chance that he did and we didn’t spot it.”

Thor meanwhile was watching the crowd of spirits. They had almost reached the edge of the last camp. The spirits themselves were milling about without much reason, but they weren’t the people Thor was focussing on.

“There are guards over there,” he said.

The group once again took a collective look.

“They do not look friendly,” Loki commented.

They watched as the guards drew closer to the remains of their camp.

“We should have scuffed our tracks,” Musleen said. “We’ve been careless.”

There was nothing they could say to that, perhaps it was Helheim’s climate, or the ever-blowing wind distracting them, but it was true, they had left clear signs that someone had been staying there.

Thor crept further out from their hiding place. “They aren’t there yet,” he said. “I’m going to try and cover up our tracks.”

He slipped out from behind the rock and covered the ground quickly to their old campsite.

Loki watched the guards closely, trying to determine if they were the ‘shoot on sight’ kind or if they were more likely to take a prisoner. It was hard to tell just from watching them walk about.

Thor reached the site and quickly scuffed the tracks away. He turned and began to head back when one of the guards turned around. As quick as lightning, Thor twisted and began heading in a different direction, breaking into a run as the guard called out.

Loki went to lunge after Thor but was yanked back hard by Musleen, who frantically gestured to his left.

There was a whole battalion hiding just behind the rocks.

“They knew,” Musleen hissed as the guards chased Thor across the landscape. “They’ve been sneaking up on us, run!”

They broke cover and headed away toward the edge as the battalion suddenly came to life and charged at their position. Loki dodged and ducked, weaving around boulders and leaping over cracks in the ground with graceful ease. Gradually he outran the sounds of the guards and allowed himself to slow down.

He was alone. His mad dash had taken him into the barren wastelands again. He could already feel the urge to curl up and sleep, but he fought it off and started walking back towards the spirits again.

He had to be careful, the guards almost certainly knew that he’d be heading back to them eventually. A part of Loki wondered what would have happened if they’d allowed the capture and confessed all to Queen Hel, but her reputation was not that of a merciful ruler.

Sure enough, Loki encountered several patrols on his way back. He slipped around rocks and ducked into caves to avoid them. By the time he got back to their campsite everything had been taken.

Loki stood still and contemplated what to do. He was out of options. Without food and water he was already in trouble, and he had yet to see any of the others. He hoped that Thor was alright.

Loki stayed close to the campsite for a few hours. He knew that if anyone else had managed to evade the guards then they would return here, as he had done, to meet up again.

He was about ready to give up when Musleen appeared. Musleen had a slash across his forehead and several tears in his clothing which had clearly been made by sword marks.

“Loki,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I’m glad to see you are alright.”

“Where’s Daenceia?” Loki asked, fearing the worst.

Musleen winced. “They caught her,” he said. “I tried to fight them off but there were too many, they didn’t want to hurt her though, they were being very careful and even let her make strikes against them that, frankly, no trained fighter should have allowed. I got away, and kept an eye on them from a distance. They’ve taken her towards the centre.”

Loki frowned. “They didn’t strike against me either, although I’m positive there were times when they could have done so. We’ll get her back. I promise.”

“Thor isn’t here?” Musleen asked, dabbing away the blood on his forehead.

Loki shook his head. “He hasn’t reappeared,” he said. “We need to find him as well.”

Musleen glanced around. “I don’t see any guards; it doesn’t look like they’ve come back here. Perhaps we could ask the spirits and see if they know what the guards were planning?”

It seemed a good idea as any, so together they made their way towards where the spirits stood.

A lot of them, Loki was pleased to see, looked old and frail. It implied that they’d had a good, long life. There were a few others though who were younger and angrier-looking.

Loki approached the nearest spirit and waved to attract his attention.

“Hello,” he said. “Can you help me?”

“I can barely help myself,” the spirit snapped.

Loki rolled his eyes and walked away. There were plenty of them there, he didn’t need to waste his time on a disgruntled one.

Musleen was having more luck.

“And then they got close and it was like a hot furnace, and they were looking all around here for it, but it wasn’t until they spotted the man running that they knew they’d found it,” the spirit was saying.

Musleen nodded. “And why did they want to find it so badly?” he asked as Loki walked up.

The spirit’s eyes went wide. “It’s *life*, isn’t it? No one gets born in Hel. The Queen sensed it straight away and ordered it brought to her. They’ve got to do what the Queen says.”

Loki looked at Musleen curiously.

“Daenceia,” he said by way of explanation. “They can sense the child, they all can, apparently, she burns hot to them, but when they got too close-“

“The heat was too hot for them to narrow in?” Loki finished. “That’s… hopefully a good thing, Queen Hel wanting her alive at least, possibly as a curiosity." 

“I hope Queen Hel has food and water at the palace,” Musleen said, sounding worried. “Otherwise it’s going to be a short-lived curiosity.”

“Did you see what happened to Thor?” Loki asked the spirit.

“You mean the big man with the axe?” the spirit asked. “They got him, knocked him clean out with their special arrows. You don’t want to get hit by one of them. He’s been taken to the Queen as well.”

Loki turned to Musleen, who looked resigned. “Looks like we’re going to the palace,” he said.

“I was hoping to avoid another diplomatic incident,” Musleen said. “But we do what we must.”

“I just wish there was a way we could escape this realm once we found them,” Loki said. “I wish I knew whether Fomalen had solved that part of the puzzle. If the Queen is hostile then I want a way out for us.”

“Well,” Musleen said, with an odd sort of look on his face. “I suppose we could always ask him.”

Loki turned to follow Musleen’s stare. Standing there, among the spirits, and looking utterly shocked at the sight of them, Fomalen stood dumbstruck.

“Oh fuck me with the wrong end of a bloody sword,” he snapped at last. “Why did it have to be you two?”


	98. Ninety Seven Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Rescue and a Sacrifice

Loki allowed a small smile to grace his features. Seeing Fomalen upset was always amusing.

“We thought we’d drop in and see how you were going,” he said. 

Fomalen scowled deeply. “Ellumyr messed up the spell, didn’t he?” He said in an irritated tone.

Loki shrugged. “Was the spell supposed to send Thor all the way here?” he asked.

“Thor? No. Why would I want that great lump of useless royal flesh dumped on me?” Fomalen snapped. Then his eyes narrowed. “Ellumyr is an idiot,” he snapped. “If he’d just followed the plan I could have gotten any type of revenge he would have liked.” He turned to Loki. “Don’t you hate the incompetence of other people?” he asked.

Loki exchanged glances with Musleen. “I think it’s fair to say that we both do,” Loki said after a minute, “although we still hate you quite a lot, despite us having one single opinion in common.”

Fomalen rolled his eyes. “Oh yes, I hope you both die horrible deaths while I get to watch,” he said bluntly, “but, let’s be serious for a moment, because I’m not stupid, and, regretfully, neither are you two.”

“Alright,” Musleen said, “let’s be serious.”

“If you knew the way out you’d have left already,” Fomalen said, “which means that you do not know the way, or you lack the materials, either way, neither one of you has dismissed me utterly and run off to help Thor, or, I’m assuming, Daenceia? She’s the one who’s pregnant, yes? I can feel the residual heat even now.”

Musleen gave a curt nod.

“So that means you need me to help you get out. Good. I can be useful, and of course you know what I want in return.”

Loki sighed. “You want to return with us,” he said.

Fomalen nodded. “I’m glad we are on the same page,” he said, “so all that remains is the price.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed.

Fomalen sighed and rolled his eyes. “Why am I cursed to be surrounded by such slow-witted dullards?” he muttered.

“A second ago we ‘weren’t stupid’,” Loki muttered.

“I’m a spirit. I have no body, not here, not back on Vanaheim,” Fomalen said.

Both men glared at him. 

“You need a host,” Loki said out loud, confirming the suspicions they’d formed of Fomalen’s plan back when they were examining the original transport spell.

“Well done,” Fomalen said sarcastically.

“So Ellumyr was supposed to be your host.” Musleen confirmed.

Fomalen shrugged. “He didn’t know that,” he said flippantly. “So, how about the baby?”

The joint silence he received just made him laugh.

“Very well, I knew neither of you would accept it, neither would I, truly, who wants to be helpless for so long? But I still need a host, and I won’t help you if there isn’t anything in it for me.”

“We’ll figure it out without you,” Loki said, turning away and headed inward toward the centre.

Musleen followed him without a word.

Fomalen sighed and began to walk after them. He caught up after a few steps and kept pace.

“What are you doing?” Musleen asked.

“You’re going to need me,” Fomalen said. “When you reach the palace and the queen you will realise this, and perhaps reconsider your position regarding my request.”

“Your request is to possess one of us,” Loki said. 

“A small price for the freedom for everyone else,” Fomalen pointed out.

“You seem rather cheerful for someone in Hel,” Musleen said.

Fomalen grinned. “You’re here now, which means I’ll be getting out. One of you will make a deal for the others; it’s just a matter of time.”

Loki clenched his fists. Fomalen was *built* out of smug. He was so certain that Loki couldn’t figure out a way back without his help.

Unfortunately, Fomalen might prove to be right. Loki couldn’t think of *any* way to return them back to Vanaheim. The barrier between Hel and the other worlds was ridiculously strong. It felt very much like the barrier Fomalen had put up around Vanaheim for so many years.

“When you locked down Vanaheim from the rest of the nine realms, did you base your barrier on Helheim’s?” Loki asked. 

“Oh yes,” Fomalen said. “I spent many years studying all the various seidr types, and I always model my work on the best there is.”

Loki scowled. One barrier on Vanaheim had been brought down by sucking the power clean out of it, and the other by knocking out the controls at the source. It was doubtful that the barriers surrounding Hel could be destroyed the same way, and, even if they were, that would effectively declare war on Helheim.

There had to be another way.

****

They hiked all day, finally stopping when they started to stumble from weariness.

“Are we even going to make it to the palace before we die of thirst?” Loki asked. 

They had walked for more than twenty hours with no water to drink, and he was feeling vaguely ill from the lack of water.

Fomalen hung around, looking bored. “Possibly not,” he said. “I don’t suppose I could persuade you to give up on your loved ones and leave now?”

The silence following his question was answer enough.

“Fine,” he said. “I mean, you could always come back?”

More silence.

Fomalen growled under his breath and stomped off.

Loki turned to Musleen. “I don’t trust him,” he said.

“Of course not, but I think he needs us as much as we need him, otherwise he wouldn’t still be hanging around,” Musleen said, “any idea how he’d get us home?”

Loki shook his head, annoyed at himself. “I can’t think of anything,” he said. “Apart from wanting a host, Fomalen hasn’t given any sign of needing anything else. Not one sly question to find out what we have with us. That implies that we should be able to get ourselves home, but I can’t think how.”

“His offer implies that he can do it right here and now, he needs nothing from us other than our bodies,” Musleen said. 

Loki closed his eyes and suppressed a groan. “I can’t think of how,” he said. 

Musleen rested his head back against a rock. “I’m sure we’ll find the way,” he said, trying to sound reassuring.

“If we make it to the palace,” Loki said.

Musleen’s face was serious. “We *do* know the way back into Helheim,” he said reluctantly.

“No,” Loki insisted. “If Fomalen gets out then we’ll all be in trouble.”

He closed his eyes again, determined to get some rest before they had to continue.

He was woken by a spear pointing directly into his face.

****

Fomalen had called the guards.

Furious, Loki glared at him as they were made to stand and were searched. They took Loki’s knives away, along with another one from Musleen.

“You bastard,” Loki muttered.

“What are you going to do? Kill me?” Fomalen countered calmly. “Besides, they have water.”

They did. The guards were each carrying a small water bottle and some bread and cheese. Loki and Musleen drank and ate, after Loki checked it for drugs or poisons.

They were herded into a carriage and locked inside.

“So about that reward?” they heard Fomalen ask, follow by: “Why, thank you, thank you.”

The door opened again and Fomalen climbed in. “Free ride to the palace,” he said. “Which, coincidently, is exactly where you want to go, with the added bonus that you won’t die before you get there.”

The door was locked behind him and the carriage began to move.

“Why do the guards have water?” Musleen asked.

“For you,” Fomalen said, “to keep you alive until the Queen has passed judgement upon you.”

“You sold us out,” Loki said.

Fomalen shrugged. “Plans within plans, Prince Loki, perhaps you ought to trust that I need you, I’m not going to let you go so easily.”

They sat in silence for the remainder of the journey. The carriage travelled far faster than normal horses could run, and they covered several days’ worth of ground in a few hours.

Fomalen became more alert as the carriage started to slow down.

“Time to act,” he said softly, his face suddenly serious. He reached beneath his robe and, to Loki’s surprise, pulled out what looked like a damaged version of one of the guard’s swords.

“You two just hold on tightly,” he said, “we don’t want you to die now do we? Although there’s an interesting question, if you die in battle while in Hel, do you get to leave or does the queen keep you as a novelty?”

He did not wait for an answer, but instead calmly lined the sword up with the door’s lock and took careful aim, inserting and jiggling it up and down until the lock gave way and the door flew open.

The carriage immediately slowed down, throwing Loki and Musleen forward in their seats. Fomalen swung out onto the side of the carriage and up to the front, where he slashed at the driver, throwing him out of his seat and off the carriage.

Loki peeked out of the doorway, catching sight of the guards yelling and drawing their swords as Fomalen grabbed the reigns and steered the carriage in a new direction, speeding up quickly and ploughing through the packed crowds of spirits in his way.

“Good thing they can’t die,” Musleen commented dryly, holding on tightly to the carriage seat as ethereal bodies went flying past the open door.

Fomalen raced ahead of the guards, steering in and out of the rocky formations that still littered the ground.

“Get ready!” he yelled over his shoulder.

“For what?” Loki yelled back. 

“To jump!” Fomalen shouted, sounding more excited by the second.

Loki and Musleen exchanged worried glances, but braced themselves near the doorway.

“Ready…! Ready…! NOW!” Fomalen yelled, throwing himself off the carriage.

Loki and Musleen threw themselves out as quickly as they could, falling down the side of a small cliff as the carriage continued onwards until it crashed into a large rock with an almighty noise.

The cliff wasn’t completely straight, instead its steep slope slowly curved to a gentler one, causing them to slide to a painful stop.

Loki crawled quickly to his feet and glanced down; his right thigh was badly grazed, but he was otherwise intact. Musleen grabbed Loki’s arm and pulled him quickly under cover as the guards arrived at the crash site.

Fomalen ran up to them.

“Still intact?” he asked, “still able to move?”

They nodded. Musleen had managed to stay on his feet as he’d slid down the cliff slope, which was fortunate, as he was already bruised from his fight with the guards earlier. Neither of them looked fantastic but they could still move.

“Good, there’s a back entrance to the palace this way,” Fomalen said, heading off.

“I want that sword,” Loki said.

Fomalen looked over his shoulder. “If we don’t move you’re going to get caught again,” he pointed out, “so whether you want the sword or not is irrelevant. I’m not going to give it to you, and you are still going to follow me.”

He turned and went to walk away.

Loki pulled out one of his knives and threw it, hitting Fomalen’s hand and making him drop the sword. Loki scooped it up and handed it to Musleen.

“I thought they took your weapons?” Fomalen said.

Loki shrugged. “So they thought,” he said, “but I’m not going defenceless in this place, and neither is Musleen, you on the other hand, cannot die.”

Fomalen looked mildly impressed.

“I can kill,” He said, after a second. “I would have thought that that would be an advantage for you, sending me in to fight so that you do not risk your lives, but alas, you are too stupid to see it that way. Come on then.”

Loki scowled at the insult, but limped after him. At this point their only other option, other than trusting Fomalen, appeared to be appealing to Queen Hela, which didn’t seem like a good idea considering what they just did to her carriage.

Fomalen led them to a small crevasse in the rock beneath the palace wall.

“In here,” he said. “It leads through to the cells. Hopefully we will be able to find your lovers quickly, and then we will discuss terms of escape.”

For a moment Loki was tempted to do something random and crazy, just to wipe the confident look off Fomalen’s face, but Thor was in there somewhere and abandoning him was not an option.

“I don’t like this,” Loki muttered as they followed Fomalen inside. “How does he know how to get in here? Where did he get that sword?”

“ – How good is his hearing?” Fomalen called out from in front of them, making Loki scowl in anger. “The answer to most of your questions is simple. I have been here for ten years. The palace is the only interesting thing in this whole place, of course I examined it. Guards sometimes damage swords and throw them away, if you visit the right places you might be able to find one. I did not figure all this out overnight, Prince Loki, I have been planning for a long time.”

“I don’t like your plans,” Loki said.

“Even when they benefit you?” Fomalen countered.

“Especially then,” Loki snapped. “It means I did something to wind up on your side, which is not a side I ever want to be on.”

Fomalen shrugged. “I, on the other hand, will work with anyone to get what I want,” he said, “including you.”

They reached the end of the crevasse to find that it opened up into a dark room.

“Stay quiet,” Fomalen said softly. “The cells begin just down the passageway outside.”

Loki and Musleen stayed close together as Fomalen peered around the door.

“He made that tunnel,” Musleen breathed into Loki’s ear as quietly as he could. “I could feel the tool marks on the wall. He’s right, ten years is a long time, but I’m starting to think he made a few trips before he died, perhaps even a long time before he died.”

Fomalen waved them forwards. “Come on,” he hissed, “it’s clear right now.”

They crept forwards to the end of the passageway and waited while Fomalen peered around again.

“If we come across a guard I’m taking his sword,” Loki said.

“You have knives,” Fomalen whispered.

“Thor doesn’t,” Loki said, “and I don’t want you to have one.”

Fomalen shrugged. “Whatever,” he muttered. “It’s clear, let’s go.”

They slipped into the cell area and began to make their way down the passageway, looking into each cell on either side.

Nothing.

Fomalen scowled. “I was afraid of this,” he said. “She’s keeping them upstairs, as ‘guests’. Not good guests, just… special ones.”

“Where upstairs?” Loki asked. 

“This way,” Fomalen said quietly.

They travelled upwards, taking small passageways and staircases that did not seem commonly travelled. Fomalen clearly knew the way well as he didn’t hesitate in his directions, which only made Loki and Musleen even more suspicious.

“I hate following him,” Loki whispered. “Do you think he’s really taking us to them or should we go our own way?”

Musleen’s face gave nothing away a he thought, but at last he said. “He needs us, and we’re not cooperating without the others, I don’t trust him, but I trust his needs are driving him… for now.”

At last they reached the correct floor. Fomalen slowed down and inched his way around the door, only to pull his head back quickly.

“They are definitely here,” he whispered. “There are five guards just in this corridor alone.”

Loki pulled out his knives. “Not for long,” he whispered.

Fomalen gave him a calculating look, but stepped back and allowed Loki and Musleen to step up to the doorway.

They peeked carefully around and confirmed Fomalen’s assessment.

“On three,” Loki whispered. “One, two… three!”

They shot out of the doorway and immediately attacked the guards. Loki downed two of them with his knives while Musleen took on a third, sword to sword.

Loki ran forwards and yanked out his knife, preparing to throw again. He was beaten to his target by Fomalen, who snatched up a sword from the fallen guard and raced to the end of the corridor, catching one of the guards as he tried to raise the alarm.

Loki took out the final guard with a flick of his wrist. 

“Well, that went better than I thought it would,” Fomalen commented calmly as Loki and Musleen searched the guards for the keys to the doors.

They did not find them, and Loki stepped up to the lock with his seidr ready and a calculating look in his eye.

Even so, it took several long, tense minutes of concentrating to get the lock to undo, and afterwards Loki felt a spike of pain go through his head.

Behind the door Thor was clearly ready to attack. He only just avoided pulverising Loki’s brains with a chair.

“Hi,” Loki said.

“Hi,” Thor said, a little sheepishly.

“You can have a sword,” Loki said, the corner of his mouth curling upwards into a smile.

Thor put the chair down.

“They took Daenceia somewhere else,” he said. “I do know she was fighting them, so she wasn’t badly hurt. They threw me in here with some food and water, and haven’t checked on me since.”

Loki turned to Fomalen. “Well?” he said.

Fomalen sighed. “This does make things difficult. She’s clearly still here, the heat is intense, unfortunately it is also rather blinding. She’s *here*, but exactly where in the castle I can’t tell.”

Musleen silently wrapped one of the guard’s sword belts around his waist.

“Then we search,” he said.

His tone was calm, but Loki knew him well. The calmer the tone, the more worried he was.

“Do you have something of Daenceia’s?” Loki asked Musleen. “A tracking spell has to be our best option at this point.”

Musleen dug around in his pockets, but came up empty. He wasn’t the type to carry keepsakes.

Loki sighed heavily. “I can try and track her from my knowledge of her magic,” he said, “but it’s not going to be easy.”

“How about I scout ahead through the castle and see what I can find out?” Fomalen suggested.

“No,” Loki said.

Fomalen crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. He looked more amused than anything.

Thor checked the end of the corridor. “We should move on regardless,” he said. “The guards do patrol through here, I’ve heard them stamp passed the door.”

The group headed on further through the castle corridors, snaking their way through the castle as quietly as they could.

“Listen,” Fomalen hissed suddenly. 

The group, already quiet, went as silent as the dead.

“…conservatory…queen…plans…fascinated…”

The words were distant, and they struggled to make them out.

“It could be nothing,” Thor said. 

“It doesn’t sound like nothing,” Fomalen argued. “I heard conservatory, which is this way.”

He set off in a new direction. Loki and Musleen shared a silent look before they turned and followed him, with Thor bringing up the rear and guarding their backs.

“Here,” Fomalen whispered as he reached the top of a spiralling staircase.

They stopped to listen. Two female voices could be heard from just beyond the door.

“Daenceia,” Loki and Musleen whispered at the same time and hefted their swords.

“The queen is in there!” Fomalen hissed. “Will you please stop being stupid and let me help?! She doesn’t know who you are yet! She hasn’t seen Thor, and Daenceia is unknown to her, you can avoid a war with Hel itself if you just trust me!”

Loki frowned hard. “I’m never going to trust you,” he whispered.

Musleen inclined his head in thought. “She’s never met me,” he said. “I’m going in.”

“Fine,” Fomalen hissed. “But Loki and Thor need to stay back here. As soon as we have rescued Daenceia we will run through here, head down the stairs and keep the way clear.“

“Why do you even care about politics?” Thor challenged.

Fomalen rolled his eyes. “Why would I want to live through a massive war between the nine realms? Use your brain, there’s nothing good in that outcome for me, is there? Now, Musleen, if you run in and get Daenceia out of the room, I will distract the queen and her guards. We need to be quick, mind y- who the Hel are you?!!!”

The last question was squeaked in shock as Fomalen laid eyes on the apparant stranger in their midst. Loki had disguised himself.

It was Loki’s turn to roll his eyes. “I’m who I’ve always been, idiot,” he said, enjoying the moment despite the danger they faced. “I am a master of illusion, and we will be going in with you.”

He turned to Thor and held out a hand. Thor’s features changed, becoming broader and darker, until he too was unrecognisable.

“A little warning would have been nice,” Musleen said calmly. “I was about to run you through.”

Loki shot him a slightly guilty look. “Sorry,” he whispered.

They turned towards the door again.

“Grab Daenceia, get her to the staircase, run downward until we reach the dungeons again,” Fomalen repeated. “Everybody ready? Now!”

They charged out of the doorway and slammed into the guards as hard as they could. Loki took down two of them rapidly and tackled a third one with his stolen sword. Fomalen took on another and Thor the last, as Musleen ducked through the fighting to reach Daenceia.

She was tied to a table. Hela, Queen of Helheim and creature of fear and nightmares, was standing above her with a knife in her hand.

Daenceia made a gargling noise and spat a thick gob of saliva into the Queen’s face.

“Bitch!” she snapped.

Musleen ducked between the Queen and Daenceia, blade up and ready.

The Queen at him with a snarl and swung out against him. Musleen caught the blade and deflected it, trying to keep himself between Daenceia and the Queen.

“How dare you invade my realm!” The Queen snarled, swinging wildly and forcing Musleen to slam his back against the table edge. “I will have all your souls for this!”

Loki body slammed his guard back towards Thor, who began to fight both at once. Loki took the opportunity to scoop up his knife run to Daenceia’s side, slashing her bonds as Musleen held the Queen back.

“Are you alright?” Loki asked, helping Daenceia up and off the table.

“You were going to eat my baby!” Daenceia screamed at the Queen, oblivious to Loki standing beside her. She turned and raised her now-free hands in anger. “You were going to devour its soul, you monster!”

Her hands began to glow with seidr.

“No!” Loki yelled, grabbing her hands and pulling her back away from the Queen. “She’s far more powerful than us, we have to run. Right now!”

“Who the Hel are you?!” Daenceia yelped as he pulled her back toward the staircase, trying to keep between her and the guards. 

There was a shriek of anger from the Queen followed by a loud crash as Musleen was thrown backwards against the table, which fell over sideways from the impact. Daenceia turned back, Loki turned back, Thor threw his attackers out through the glass windows and turned back.

Fomalen got their first. Having disposed of his guard, he leapt between the Queen’s strike and where Musleen lay prone on the ground. He brought his sword up and deflected the Queen’s aim, throwing her off balance and down onto her knees.

“You are a subject!!” she shrieked at him.

Fomalen grabbed Musleen’s arm and pulled the man to his feet.

“I never swore any oath to you!” he called out over his shoulder as they ran for the stairs.

The group fled downwards as fast as they could. They could hear the Queen’s rage echoing after them as she called for more guards. 

“Well,” Fomalen said as they rushed down the narrow stairs as quickly as they safely could, “now is the time to make that choice. I’ve taken a great risk in helping you, I will be punished quite severely if she catches me, so who’s going to make the sacrifice?”

Loki could feel his blood boiling. Did Fomalen honestly expect…?

“Very well,” Musleen said. “But only if you get Daenceia out safely, and *never* harm her or our child.”

“What?!” Loki shouted.

“A fair trade,” Fomalen said. “I accept.”

“What is he talking about?” Daenceia demanded.

“Guards!!!” Thor shouted, pointing ahead of them.

“Swear it thrice,” Musleen said as Thor swung at the guards to drive them back.

“Musleen, no, we’ll figure it out!” Loki said, even as more guards closed in from behind, trapping them in the narrow space.

“I swear it once, I swear it twice, I swear it thrice!” Fomalen chanted as quickly as he could. “Your turn! Swear you’ll let me in!”

“I swear it once, twice, thrice,” Musleen responded, equally quickly. “Now do what you have to do,” he added, in his usual calm way.

Fomalen reached beneath his coat and pulled out an amulet. It was covered in powerful runes and protected with even more.

“Everyone hold on to me!” he yelled.

They turned and grabbed a hold of his robes, Thor still slashing out in front as Loki did the same thing from behind.

Fomalen activated the amulet and a portal opened up, punching violently through Helheim’s barriers and pulling them away.


	99. Ninety Eight Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stepping Stone on the Way to Home

They landed in what looked like a wild field of grass and flowers. 

“Welcome to Folkvangr,” Fomalen said. “Afterlife of the warrior Vanir, and, incidentally, far easier to get out of than Helheim.”

He turned to Musleen.

“Keep your promise,” he said. 

His face looked hungry.

“No,” Loki protested. “Fomalen, no, you’re out of Helheim, you can stay here without a body. It’s far nicer.”

“I do not want to stay here, I want to live again. Keep your promise, cousin,” Fomalen said without looking away from Musleen.

Musleen took a deep breath. Loki already knew what he was going to say. Musleen was a man of his word.

Musleen turned to Daenceia and, in a moment of vulnerability, let his calm mask fall and blew her a kiss. There was a lot of love in his look.

Daenceia bit her lip, but did not cry. She stepped forward and kissed him, quite passionately, Musleen flushed red to the tips of his ears. Then she stepped back, rested her hands on her stomach and raised her chin defiantly.

“I love you,” she said.

“Time does not rule my heart,” Musleen said to her, almost too softly for Loki to hear.

Musleen then turned back to Fomalen.

“Go on then,” he said, in a much harsher tone of voice.

Fomalen stepped forward, then forward again. For a moment they seemed to occupy the same space, but then Fomalen vanished, and Musleen closed his eyes.

When they opened, Fomalen was back. From the tilt of his head to the smug look on his face, Fomalen was in front of them. Musleen’s features were still there, but Musleen himself had vanished.

“Well now,” Fomalen said, clapping his hands together. “Time to get out of Folkvangr, don’t you think?”

He set off across the field without looking back. The others had to jog to catch up with him.

“Why Folkvangr?” Loki asked, desperately scanning his memory for anything that could help remove Fomalen from Musleen’s body.

“The afterlives are connected in a way the living realms are not,” Fomalen said. “You cannot easily break out of Helheim, unless you first take a sideways step into Folkvangr or Valhalla, although who would want to go there?” he added with a sneer.

“So we jump again?” Loki confirmed, “With another amulet?”

Fomalen nodded curtly. “Yes, but first we have to fetch it, I hid one here centuries ago.”

“And in Helheim?” Loki asked. “You hid one there centuries before you died, just in case?”

Fomalen shook his head. “You saw it, Loki, you saw the power that was needed. I couldn’t have hidden something like that in Helheim for long, and certainly not unguarded. Not with the Queen being as sensitive as she was to energy. The spell was *supposed* to bring me a person and the amulet, which it did, just not the person I was expecting.”

“The excess power,” Loki exclaimed. “The spell had far too much when I cast it, but not if you had to send the amulet too! By the time I cast it, the amulet had already crossed over and the excess power had nothing to focus on!”

Fomalen grinned, which was unnerving to see on Musleen’s face. “Exactly, the amulet was kept safely in Vanaheim until the spell sent it to me when someone crossed over. You and I would have made a good team, Loki, pity you chose… love.”

Thor growled under his breath. “Love is worth choosing,” he said, “and if you think you will be allowed to get away with possession-“

“I already have,” Fomalen cut in. “I’ll send you back, because I promised my dear cousin that I wouldn’t harm his wife. Despite what Loki may think, I am a man of honour, in my own way, and abandoning her here might be fulfilling the wording of my promise, but certainly not the spirit.”

“I have a name,” Daenceia interjected, breathing a little hard, “and I would thank you not to forget it.”

Fomalen looked at her in surprise. “True,” he conceded, “very true, I apologise, Daenceia. I do know your name. I also know that you spent rather a lot of time trying to put Dog-breath back on the throne, so forgive me if I do not rush to do you any honours.” He paused for a second. “Bitch,” he added.

Despite her obvious tiredness, Daenceia smirked. “No, I spent a lot of time *succeeding* at putting *King* Dorgen back on the throne,” she corrected.

Fomalen pulled a face, but did not argue further. He kept up a fast pace though, forcing the others to hurry to keep up with him.

Loki gave Thor’s hand a quick squeeze before he dropped back slightly to talk to Daenceia.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

She nodded curtly. “I’m worried, scared and exhausted, but other than that I am just fine,” she said, she was frowning hard and seemed to be having trouble concentrating on their conversation.

“Perhaps we should rest,” Loki suggested, but Daenceia shook her head and kept walking stubbornly forward.

“Keep. Fomalen. Busy,” she said, with effort.

Loki frowned in confusion, but Daenceia wouldn’t even look at him, focussing instead on the back of Fomalen’s head.

Loki walked a little faster and caught up with Fomalen, who was still marching quickly across the lush fields of flowers.

“Queen Hela should really be deposed,” Fomalen said, as he walked. “She feeds off the life-force of the dead, keeping them in a cold, miserable state. Watching her reacting to a living person with such desperation was disgusting. Of course, when she feeds off someone who is living, well… she destroys your essence, reducing you to nothing at all. Did you see her face when she thought she had a growing babe in her grasp? Disgusting.” He shook his head. “When I’m done with my plans, Queen Hela is going to get a nasty shock.”

Loki twisted his mouth up in annoyance. “I hate having things in common with you,” he admitted.

Fomalen looked at him knowingly. Loki felt unnerved by Musleen’s face making that expression. It was so different and *wrong*. “If it makes you feel any better, when I’m done with my plans I intend to destroy you and everything you love,” Fomalen said pleasantly.

He led the way forwards for a few hours, before Loki insisted that they stop.

“Daenceia needs rest,” he said. “You did say you wouldn’t harm her.”

Fomalen rolled his eyes but settled down on the grass. A cool breeze blew gently, cooling them down as they sat, and the sun was perfectly warming without being too hot.

“This place feels so different to Helheim,” Thor commented.

“Of course it does,” Fomalen said. “The spirits aren’t being drained here; their life-force is all around us. Can’t you feel it?”

Thor opened his mouth to answer and Loki swore that he saw the ‘no’ forming on his lips, but at a sudden look from Daenceia his face changed and he said: “So that’s what that is, I didn’t recognise it. It’s a new sensation.”

Fomalen nodded. “Yes, that’s what it is. I didn’t expect to be so sensitive to it after I regained a body, but this place feels very strong.”

Loki very deliberately did not look at Daenceia. A thought was already forming in his mind. The lack of talking… the intense focus… the fact that she had ongoing exposure to her husband and years in which to study at the Tower…

“Can anyone else hear water?” Thor asked.

“I can,” Fomalen said. “From over there?”

They rose and walked through a line of trees to the other side. In front of them, a stream bubbled gently in front of them.

They drank heavily, it had been a while since they had last had anything to drink, and then settled on the ground to rest again.

“How far is this other amulet?” Loki asked.

Fomalen shrugged. “Another few hours walk,” he said. “I had to hide it away from the spirits for fear of discovery; this area is rarely visited by the dead.”

“Where does your next portal lead to?” Loki asked.

“Vanaheim,” Foamlen said. “Of course, I trust you will excuse me if I leave again immediately. I have no desire to stay and be punished by Dog-breath.”

Loki nodded. No matter what, he was going to keep Fomalen under control until they found a way to pull him out of Musleen.

They set off again once everyone had rested, and made their way over the gentle hills and meadows until they reached an area filled with small caves and hollows.

Fomalen began hunting around in one area, turning over rocks and double-checking his positioning with features in the landscape.

Thor and Loki wandered into a cave to help look. It had a large front area and a smaller chamber at the rear. 

“You could make a primitive home in here,” Thor commented. “It could be quite cosy with the bedroom at the back and the main area out there.”

“I prefer tents,” Loki said absentmindedly, looking around for anything that shone with magic.

Daenceia still hadn’t taken her eyes off Fomalen. 

“Do you hear that?” Thor asked suddenly.

Loki froze, then his eyes widened. “Horses!” he exclaimed.

They hurried out of the cave in time to see riders on the horizon. They were headed toward the caves.

“Crap,” Fomalen said. “I knew they’d be able to track our arrival but I was hoping to be long gone before they caught up with us.”

Loki and Thor exchanged glances. “Do you think Queen Freyja will be nicer than Queen Hela?” Thor asked.

Fomalen sighed. “Maybe, she visits the realms of the living far more, I know that,” he said. “Although she wasn’t fond of visiting the last King for some reason,” he added sarcastically.

“Where’s the amulet?” Loki asked.

Fomalen shrugged. “Not here, I think someone found it, bloody spirits.”

The group waited in resigned silence as the riders caught up with them.

“Strangers! Be aware that you trespass here in Folkvangr! State you intentions!” the lead rider called out.

“I am Prince Thor of Asgard, this is Prince Loki of Asgard, uh, Prince Musleen of Vanaheim and Princess Daenceia of Vanaheim!” Thor called out. “We come by accident, not design, will you escort us to your Queen, that we may petition her to return to our realms?”

The rider studied them with narrowed eyes. “What accident would send you here?” she said.

Fomalen stepped forwards. “My accident, my Lady, I was opening a portal to Vanaheim from Asgard and we got diverted,” he lied. “I thought at first I had killed us all, but as it seems my good friends, Thor and Loki, have come with us to Folkvangr then I have no choice but to assume that we do not belong in your glorious queen’s realm just yet.”

The rider thought for a moment.

“You will come with us and make your petition to the Queen. She will decide what punishment this trespass deserves,” she said.

Fomalen bowed low, a smile on his face.

“We are very grateful,” he said.

They were instructed to mount up behind a rider each and taken back the way they had come towards the centre of Folkvangr, to where the palace of Queen Freyja was waiting.

It was a long ride, and Loki could feel the weariness pushing into his bones as he concentrated on keeping his balance. He could only imagine what Daenceia was going through, and he resolved, despite his tiredness, to try and give her an energy boost when they reached their destination.

Despite the time passing the sun stayed high in the sky. Folkvangr was a realm of the dead, and change was minuscule and infrequent.

At last they arrived and fell out of their saddles. Loki stumbled over to Daenceia, who was looking pale, and took her hands. He felt her resist as he pushed his energy into her, but overrode it; she needed it more than he did.

For a second he felt a trace of something familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, but it was quickly cut off as she broke their contact.

“Follow us,” the head rider said.

They followed together, keeping a wary eye on the guards that watched them pass down the corridors.

They were shown into a room filled with people, many of whom were milling about, clearly waiting to see the Queen.

“Wait here, you will be called when she is ready,” the head rider said, and left them alone.

Fomalen slumped down onto a chair immediately. “This is not working out as I had hoped,” he said.

“What happened to plans within plans?” Loki asked him.

Fomalen shot him a tight smile. “’Not as hoped’ isn’t the same as ‘out of ideas’, I’m working on it.”

Daenceia sat down beside him and absentmindedly tucked a strand of his hair back into place. Then she seemed to realise what she had done and retracted her arm quickly as Fomalen chuckled.

Loki stepped closer to Thor and leaned against him. “I want to go home,” he said softly.

“Me too,” Thor said, wrapping his arms around Loki and giving him a hug. “We’ll get there, soon I hope.”

Loki gave him a gentle kiss. “Soon,” he agreed. “Otherwise I might have to get creative.”

Thor raised an eyebrow. “Not planning to punch a hole through the very fabric of time and space are you?” he asked.

Loki grinned mischievously. “maybe,” he said.

Thor gave him a smile. “I can’t wait to be home with you, safe in our bed, fast asleep. It feels like an age since I slept,” he confessed.

Loki closed his eyes and rested against Thor’s chest. “I love you,” he said.

Fomalen suddenly sat up straight as an arrow, startling them all out of their exhausted almost-slumbers.

“That bastard!” he growled, causing Loki to turn and scan the room in alarm. “That absolute _bastard_.”

Loki turned to follow his enraged stare, breath catching in his throat as, across the room, he caught sight of the one man he never wanted to see again.

Still old.

Still stooped.

Still decrepit.

_Dimcken._


	100. Ninety Nine Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Force to be Reckoned With

Thor immediately stepped in front of Loki, blocking Dimcken’s view. Fomalen just sat there, eyes blazing and fists clenched.

“What is he doing here?” he hissed in anger.

Loki looked down at him, and remembered that Fomalen had tried to *kill* Dimcken, long before Loki had ever met either of them.

“Shouldn’t he be in Helheim?” Loki found himself asking.

Fomalen was scowling so hard he had twisted Musleen’s face into one of furious ugliness. 

“I would have thought so,” he said, rising from his seat.

“What are you doing?” Loki asked, alarmed, as Fomalen began to walk over to where Dimcken stood.

“I’m going to punch him,” Fomalen said. “It’s about all you can do to a spirit, and by the Norns themselves, I’m going to do it.”

Thor reached out and grabbed his arm. “No,” he said, “we are waiting to see the Queen, don’t make trouble.”

Fomalen twisted in Thor’s grip but couldn’t break it.

“Let me go,” he demanded. “Let me do this, let me hurt that scumbag!”

Loki added his weight to Fomalen’s other arm. “No, home is more important than this,” he argued.

“And I suppose your point has nothing to do with wanting to avoid him?” Fomalen asked nastily.

Loki suppressed a flinch. Even after so many years and so much healing, he did not feel ready to face Dimcken, he doubted he ever would.

Thor yanked Fomalen back hard. “Loki can do as he pleases, and you will focus on what we are going to tell the Queen in order to get out of here,” he said furiously.

“Loki?!”

They had caused too much of a commotion and drawn attention to themselves. Dimcken had seen where they stood and was walking towards them.

Loki felt himself freeze in terror. Nonononono.

“Loki? Here?” What happened? Did you die young?” Dimcken asked. “And what did you do to your hair? It’s so long! Why would you do that, it takes away from your beauty.”

Loki shot Thor a look of pure fear. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t. _He couldn’t!_

Thor let go of Fomalen’s arm and planted himself between Loki’s turned-away form and the approaching Dimcken.

“Go away,” he said bluntly. “You are not welcome to speak to him.”

Fomalen took the opportunity to sidle out from behind Thor and step into Dimcken’s personal space.

“What the bloody Hel are you doing in Folkvangr?” he asked, glaring at the man. “you should be in Helheim!”

Dimcken blinked in surprise. “Musleen? You too? What happened? Was there an attack? I knew Dorgen couldn’t keep things running smoothly, and don’t be so stupid, boy, Kings don’t go to Helheim.”

Loki could feel the blood rushing out of his head, but at those words everything inside of him seemed to stop. The sounds became dim. The light seemed to fade. The fear froze and shattered beneath the growing, unyielding, *anger*.

Kings did not go to Helheim.

Of course they wouldn’t. Helheim was a terrible place. Kings were privileged. Kings were protected.

Loki turned.

“You were everything that was wrong with the royalty of Vanaheim! You were selfish, self-centred and despicable!” Fomalen was shouting into Dimcken’s face.

Dimcken, for his part, had turned a nasty shade of red. 

“You are nothing but the son of a whore!” he countered. “I should have had you hung beside your mother! Did you go on to marry that piece of filth dancer? *DID YOU?!*”

Thor was in the middle, trying to keep them apart from one another. Another man, tall and with more than a passing resemblance to Dorgen, was trying to pull Dimcken back from the fight.

‘Norbleen,’ Loki thought. ‘I am looking at Norbleen.’

He felt strangely disconnected from the world. The anger had taken over, and nothing else mattered. Nothing but this…

Loki stepped forward, wound up, and punched Dimcken so hard in the face the man was thrown backwards several feet, landing horizontally on the tiled floor.

Only Loki’s slow, measured breathing could be heard in the silence that followed.

“You,” Loki whispered, his voice holding back an avalanche of rage and fury. “You almost ruined me. You took everything I had from me, my body, my hope, my spirit. You did that. And the worst part was, you didn’t mean to, you really didn’t. You were so caught up in your own perverse desired that you made me fulfil, you never thought about what you were doing to me. I hate you. There are many people who I think little of, but I *hate* you. Do you even understand what that means? I. Hate. You.”

Dimcken got shakily to his feet, helped by Norbleen, who was looking suspiciously between Loki and his father.

“What do you mean by that?” Norbleen asked, watching Loki carefully.

“Did he never tell you? The things he did to me? Why not? Why wouldn’t you tell? Was it for the same reason that you used to hide it from Odin? Or try to keep the worst of it as private as possible? Because you bloody well knew, deep down inside, that what you were doing was *wrong*?” Loki spat.

Dimcken was shaking his head. “No, no, no, you loved me, of course you did, stop being silly, Loki dear, you know you did.”

Loki raised his arm again, but Norbleen got in the way. 

“Please,” he said. “Please don’t fight. We are all here for something, and fighting in the hall is forbidden. We’ll be thrown out.”

“I want to have my youth back,” Dimcken said. “It’s so tiresome being trapped in my old age.”

Loki turned to Norbleen with narrowed eyes. “Whatever he told you was a lie, however you remember him was not how he ended his life. He deserves Helheim. He tried to have Dorgen killed.”

Norbleen’s eyes widened in shock.

“Father, no, you wouldn’t,” he protested.

“Of course he did. He hated Dorgen for not being *you*,” Loki said.

“True,” Fomalen called out from behind Loki. “He was a tyrant and a terrible man, he banished me.”

Loki turned and shot him a look. “Considering what you did, that is not a strong argument,” he said quietly.

Fomalen shrugged. 

“I never tried to banish you,” Dimcken said. “Although if I’d known you’d marry a whore I would have.”

“A dancer is not a whore, you just chose to treat them like it,” Loki spat at him. 

Dimcken scowled. “I liked you better when we were married,” he said. “You knew your place.”

Loki lunged at him, scratching down the old king’s face with his hand as Thor caught a hold of him and Norbleen yanked his father backwards out of range.

“STOP.”

The word was loud and resonated around the hall to every corner. The group as one turned to face the grand doorway, which had opened. Queen Freyja of Folkvangr stood there, tall and regal, and looking thoroughly annoyed.

They straightened themselves up.

She was as beautiful as the legends said, but in a strange way, Loki found her unappealing. There was something about her that reminded him of Thor, her eyes, the way she held herself, but all that did was make him long for the man standing behind him.

As though he knew what Loki was thinking, Thor gently put an arm around his waist. “She looks like you,” he murmured in Loki’s ear, “and yet, I think, not as enchanting.”

Freyja’s eyes fell on them and she inclined her head slightly, a small smile playing at her lips.

“I do love to see it when true soulmates find one another,” she said. “You may come in and state your case. All of you, I wish to know why I must have such disruption in my hall.”

****

Freyja’s throne room glittered with the light of a summer afternoon. Fountains and mini waterfalls were scattered seemingly at random, and flowers and vines had been allowed to grow through the cracks in the stonework and over the pillars.

She sat in her throne and studied them carefully.

“Well?” she asked. “Why were you fighting? There are whole fields for fighting, I won’t have it here at my hall.”

“That man does not belong in Folkvangr,” Loki said quickly, before Dimcken could speak. 

“Definitely not,” Fomalen commented.

Dimcken looked furious. “I am a King of Vanaheim!” he declared. “Of course I belong here!”

“No king should act as you did, and certainly not be rewarded for it afterwards,” Loki argued.

“What did he do?” Freyja asked.

It was such a simple question, and yet so full of pain and sorrow that Loki could feel his lips pressing closed. There was so much that he never wanted to speak of again.

“Nothing of consequence,” Dimcken argued. “It seems my last wife regretted our marriage, although he never said so at the time.”

Freyja turned to Loki. “Did you not?” she asked.

Loki could feel the ground falling away from him. He could feel old wounds, scarred over, breaking open and threatened to destroy him. Dimcken would always have a hold over him.

Wait, did Freyja refer to him and Thor as ‘soulmates’?

Loki reached behind him for Thor’s hand. Thor wrapped their fingers together and held on tightly.

Sometimes, when you think you can’t, you have to take a deep breath, close your eyes, and do it anyway.

Sometimes you have to leap.

“My story is not simple,” Loki said. “It is long, and twisted, and it is painful to tell. But if it puts this man even one step further from this place, I will tell it to you.”

Queen Freyja nodded. Dimcken opened his mouth to speak but she raised a hand and no sound came out.

“Tell,” she commanded.

“It began on a rowboat, in the middle of a lake,” Loki said, “when I was almost, but not quite, of age.”

It took a long time to tell. There were pauses, there were tears, there were moments of shock from Dimcken, Thor and even Fomalen. Only Daenceia stayed silent, despite being involved at several key moment; her eyes never left the back of Fomalen’s head.

Loki told of his vow, and what he had done to keep it. He told Freyja of Odin’s insistence that he remain in a place where he was treated as nothing but a toy to appease a people who were already fairly satisfied. He told of those brief moments he was able to find happiness, and who had helped him find it. He told of the mask, and his desire to let it win, but being forced for the sake of the realm to fight against it, he told of Lightning and his secret ability to gallop, of how Musleen agreeing to spar with him away from the eyes of the King, of the night he saved Fosxyr from the wolves, and all the little lies he told, all the secrets he kept, everything, every last damn thing he did to keep Dimcken happy so that one day Loki could be with Thor.

He told of the years that followed Dimcken’s death, of the Ink, and Odin’s curse, of running so far for so long because staying in Asgard was nothing but pain. Of thinking that he could never be with Thor, never give him the love he deserved because of how broken Loki was, how filthy, how pathetic and damaged.

He spoke of how long it took to heal, and how, even now, he had days where he questioned everything, and wished desperately that those days could be behind him.

When he was finished, when the story was over and Loki stood there surrounded by the light and the flowers, with birdsong echoing in the distance, he found himself turning toward Thor, needing to meet his eyes, needing to see if anything had changed for them. Thor had said he saw it, he said he understood, but Loki had never told him everything, not like this.

Thor’s eyes were filled with tears, but he just held his arms open, inviting Loki to walk into them, but not forcing him, never forcing him.

Loki hugged his tightly, and let himself cry.

Fomalen was scowling at Dimcken, who looked uncomfortable. Norbleen stood beside him with a face of horror.

“How could you do that?” he whispered.

“My son,” Dimcken said, reaching out a hand, but Norbleen flinched away. 

“I am Dorgen’s brother, not your son,” Norbleen said.

Queen Freyja turned to look at Dimcken.

“You have a right of reply,” she pointed out.

Dimcken said nothing. His mouth opened once or twice as though he was going to form an argument, but he could come up with nothing.

“Prince Loki is right, you do belong in Helheim, and I hope that you reflect for the rest of eternity on the difference between being a king and acting like one,” Freyja said.

She gestured to her guards. “Take him to the holding cells until you can arrange passage to Helheim. Send him as soon as your preparations are complete.”

They took him away while Loki’s head was still down, resting on Thor’s shoulder, but he didn’t care, he had better things to think about.

“Now I suppose I should ask the other question that has been intriguing me,” Queen Freyja continued. “Why are there two spirits in that one body?”

It was Fomalen’s turn to look guilty.

“What do you mean?” he asked. “I’m whole; it must be a side effect of the travel.”

Queen Freyja frowned. “Not you,” she said, “the young lady.”

“She’s pregnant,” Fomalen supplied, but his words were cut off with a wave of Queen Freyja’s hand.

“My dear, come here, you appear to be carrying a rather large load,” she said.

Daenceia stepped forwards and curtsied low. “It is a burden I chose to carry,” she said calmly. “The spirit of my husband is welcome to stay with me.”

Queen Freyja smiled gently. “You cannot take a spirit back with you, I, too, know the stories, but it would never work,” she said gently.

Daenceia just smiled. “Well, his body was given away before his death, so I am taking nothing that belongs to you yet, your Majesty.”

Fomalen began to look nervous, then his expression suddenly changed.

Loki frowned in suspicion as Fomalen began to inch sideways.

“Nevertheless, a spirit without a body cannot survive in the land of the living. Leave your husband here, he will be safe with me, and in time, when that child in your belly is grown and can live without you, you can join him,” Queen Freyja argued.

Daenceia shook her head. “I will carry him with me, your Majesty. It is not his time yet.”

The Queen was starting to look annoyed. Loki looked over at Fomalen again. He had almost reached one of the fountains.

_There was an amulet on top of the fountain._

Queen Freyja, or one of her citizens, had found Fomalen’s amulet. Who knew when, but it was in the throne room, and Fomalen had almost reached it.

“If his body did not die then where was it left?” Queen Freyja asked Daenceia. “Perhaps it would be better to retrieve it?”

“He gave it away in exchange for our lives,” Daenceia said. “In fact, the body in question is even now trying to reach the pathway home.”

Queen Freyja suddenly noticed Fomalen, whose hand was inches from the amulet. He froze and gave her a guilty grin.

“I guess I didn’t hide this as well as I thought I had,” he said.

Queen Freyja’s eyes narrowed. “Was this an honest trade?” she asked.

“Oh yes!” Fomalen said quickly, before Loki could interject. “We both gave a thrice-sworn vow.”

“Sadly, that is true,” Daenceia said. “But I am keeping my husband with me.”

“If you lose control in the realms of the living he will have no body to protect his spirit and it will be torn apart and cease to exist,” Queen Freyja said. “Are you certain you wish to take the risk?”

“I am,” Daenceia said. “Please will you let us return home?”

Queen Freyja stared at her for a long time, but finally, she nodded her assent.

“You may leave, using your trinket,” she said.

Fomalen looked insulted at her words, but snatched up the amulet and quickly brought it to where the others were standing.

“Let’s go,” he said. “Let’s finally, *finally* go.”

Loki and Thor grabbed a hold of his coat, Daenceia gave the queen another low curtsy before doing the same.

“Thank you, your Majesty,” Loki said.

“Live well, Loki,” she replied.

Fomalen pressed the runes on the amulet. “Come on,” he muttered.

Daenceia swayed slightly on her feet. Loki gave her a look of alarm but in that moment the amulet activated and they were sucked away.

A second later, they were back in Vanaheim, in a dark room filled with magical items.

“Finally,” Fomalen said, ducking out of their grasp and scooping one up. “I’ll see you again I’m sure, goodbye for now.”

Before Loki or Thor could stop him, he pressed the runes to open a new portal and escape.


	101. One Hundred Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never, Ever, Give Musleen Time to Plan

Nothing happened.

Fomalen frowned in confusion. He began pressing the buttons again.

Thor and Loki glanced at each other, and then lunged for Fomalen, who twisted at the last second and ducked under their grasp.

“Give up, Fomalen,” Daenceia said calmly. “You can’t leave Vanaheim, not this time.”

Fomalen turned to her, anger and frustration lining his face. “What did you do?!” he demanded. “And *how* did you do it?”

Daenceia chuckled. Loki looked from her to Fomalen and back again. Then realisation hit.

“I’m an idiot,” Loki said.

“True, but how does that help?” Fomalen snapped. He was trying to inch his way towards the only door in the room, but Thor, satisfied that the seidr wasn’t going to work, had moved to block it.

Loki exchanged a grin with Daenceia.

“Even your amulets need a little bit of seidr to activate them,” Loki said, “and Musleen doesn’t have any.”

“Not one drop,” Daenceia said.

The colour drained from Fomalen’s face. 

“No,” he said.

“Yes, very much so. Musleen and I discussed it all those nights in Helheim. We knew you’d need a body, and we also knew you’d try for the baby, knowing that someone would make the sacrifice to save it. His plan was to wait until we were in true danger and offer himself, which you would accept. As the only person without seidr in our group, it had to be him,” Daenceia explained calmly. “So that amulet is not going to work, none of them are. You can come quietly or be knocked the Hel out by Thor, but either way you are staying on Vanaheim and in custody.”

Fomalen rushed at Thor, he pulled the sword from his belt and tried to fight his way through.

Thor raised his own sword and the two blades met with a clang.

Loki slipped to Daenceia’s side.

“You could have told me,” he said.

“I’m surprised that he didn’t,” Daenceia said. “But then, he didn’t want Fomalen to be suspicious, your genuine reaction are very convincing.”

Loki looked back at where Thor and Fomalen were fighting.

“Thor can hold his own, but then so can Fomalen,” he said, “and Musleen’s body is well trained and in good shape.”

“I know,” Daenceia said with a smirk that made Loki blush.

“I’d better sort it out,” he stammered, and pulled out one of his knives.

He lined himself up, took a deep calming breath, and let fly. The handle of the knife slammed into the back of Fomalen’s head, knocking him sideways and jarring his sword from his hand. It didn’t knock him out, but by the time he looked up it was into two sword blades and Thor’s stern expression. 

“Ah,” he managed, but couldn’t think of anything more to say.

“We’d better contact the palace,” Loki said. 

****

Burtchen came to pick them up himself.

“What’s that leader of mine done to himself now?” he asked gruffly as his men put Fomalen in chains.

“Sacrificed his body for the greater cause,” Loki said.

Burtchen shrugged. “He’s always doing that,” he said. “Any idea how to get him back?”

Loki nodded. “A few, I’ve been thinking about it ever since he got himself into this mess, and I’m sure the mages at the Tower will have their ways.”

In the end it was not that difficult. Polweren, the leading teacher of mind magic and Loki’s former mentor, had written a book on the subject of possession, and what happened to the souls of others when their body died while they were possessing someone else.

“They dissipate,” he said bluntly. “Without a body to hold them together in this realm, they are simply torn apart. Prince Musleen’s spirit is safe with Princess Daenceia, for now, I doubt that she can hold on to him forever, but then she will not have to.”

“You have a way to get Fomalen out?” Loki asked.

Polweren nodded. “It’ll tear him to shreds, but yes,” he said.

“He probably deserves it,” Loki said. “Although he did save our lives, he caused the deaths of thousands of others and was planning mass-murder of the people near the border during the war. He is not a man of redeemable qualities.”

“No,” Dorgen said. “He is not.”

Dorgen had been very interested in their adventures, especially the part about his father, and about Norbleen.

“Did he look well?” he asked Loki in what sounded to Loki’s ears like a tentative voice, behind the guise of a King.

“As well as any spirit there,” Loki assured him. “When he found out the true nature of what Dimcken had become he declared himself, not the son of a King, but the brother of one.”

Dorgen blinked hard, and Loki looked away for a minute to give the King time to control his feelings.

Fomalen was kept in a specially made cell. It had been commissioned by Musleen immediately after Fomalen had been hanged, and could not have any spell cast upon it. 

“Planning for next time?” Loki had asked Burtchen.

“Of course, I’m still betting that he didn’t foresee Fomalen as being the first one to use it,” Burtchen said. “Although it’s fitting, look at the plaque above the door.”

Loki looked.

“The Fomalen Breaveenson Memorial Cell,” Loki read. “Musleen does have a sense of humour, doesn’t he?”

“He hides it under a thick layer of seriousness and serenity,” Burtchen said. “But yes, he does.”

Three days after their return to Vanaheim, Fomalen was taken from his cell and tied to a chair in front of Polweren, Daenceia, Dorgen and Loki.

“What happened to a fair trial?” Foamlen asked. 

His nervous face and sweaty forehead made him look almost nothing like the man he was currently possessing.

“You had one,” Dorgen said. “You were found guilty and sentenced to death, which was carried out. If you’d stayed in Helheim, we would not be forced to do this now.”

“I could go back?” Fomalen offered.

“There is always the risk you would escape again, no, this is for the best. Sometimes it is better for things to just end,” Dorgen said, although he sounded sad. “I never wanted to order such a thing, but you, Fomalen, you of all people know that you deserve it.”

Fomalen made a whimpering sound as Polweren stepped forward. He was holding a large beaker of cleansing potion. Without a word he poured it over Musleen’s skin. Loki concentrated, and he could see the seidr flowing around Fomalen. Polweren added his own seidr at the same time. The cleansing spell would break the unnatural bonds keeping Fomalen in place. Polweren would pull the spirit out manually. His seidr was bright, blue and shimmered in Loki’s vision. It slid through Musleen’s head and out again, back and forth, grabbing at the essence within.

Loki may be powerful, but Polweren was *skilled*, a lifetime of studying mind magic could only leave Loki in awe.

‘One day I’m going to be that good,’ Loki vowed.

Fomalen screamed as he was torn from Musleen’s body, pulled out into the harsh reality of a living ream. Loki’s eyes widened as he saw the golden light of Fomalen’s soul start to dissipate into nothingness, shreds of life spiralling off into multiple directions, leaving nothing behind.

Loki swallowed hard. Knowing that there was somewhere to go when you died was comforting, it made the whole thing less painful, although there was still the chance you would be separated from some of your loved ones. Seeing a true end to soul, even one as violent and evil as Fomalen, was difficult to watch.

Musleen’s body slumped down. He lay so still it was a minute before Loki realised he was still breathing.

His mind flashed back to Rohundia, all those years ago. Her soul had been ripped from Loki’s body by the same cleansing spell, and her body had been left in the same state. Now it was up to Daenceia to put Musleen back, otherwise he would suffer the same fate as Fomalen.

‘She must be exhausted,’ Loki thought. None of them had managed much rest over the past few days.

Daenceia placed her hands on either side of Musleen’s head and knelt so that her face was level with his. She concentrated, and golden light poured swiftly from her body to his.

Loki held his breath. Without any seidr of his own Musleen was entirely dependent on Daenceia securing his spirit safely back into his body.

The light faded and Musleen blinked, his mouth curved into a smile at the sight of Daenceia face.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hello to you too,” she replied, and kissed him.

Dorgen sagged with un-king-like relief. Loki grinned as Polweren clapped his hands together and Burtchen gave a some grunt of happiness.

“That,” Loki said into the silence of the room, “was a terrible honeymoon.”

****

Arriving back into Asgard was filled with fuss, but then, Thor’s abrupt departure and Loki disappearing soon after had left things unsettled, and the not so newly wedded had some ground to make up.

They had a feast to celebrate Thor’s safe return, and King Dorgen sent some of Vanaheim’s finest livestock and best harvest as a thank-you-for-not-blaming-my-realm gift.

Loki didn’t feel that it was warranted, but then he knew the royal family well, the rest of Asgard didn’t. It was all politics, and Loki could play that game with the best of them.

But after the feast, after the well wishes and the toasts and the loud music and the glorious food, there was still one thing Loki had to do before he and Thor could finally get some much needed rest.

Loki sat in front of a mirror and contemplated his reflection.

“What’s the matter, my love?” Thor asked him. “You’ve been sitting there for half an hour, normally you’d be almost through brushing your hair by now.”

“I know, that’s my problem,” Loki said. “When I was married to Dimcken” – he had found that after Folkvangr he could say the name without flinching – “I wore my hair short because he liked it, but I vowed once he was dead I would wear it long, to spite him.”

Thor came over and leaned against the back of the chair, looking at Loki in the mirror. “It is very long,” he said, acknowledging what Loki was telling him without trying to take control of the conversation. He was good at that, and it was yet another reason that Loki loved him.

“I realised, when I saw him in Folkvangr, that, long or short, I was still defining myself by what he liked. I don’t ever want to do that, I don’t want to hold on to any part of him. So, now I’m trying to work out what *I* like,” Loki continued.

Thor leaned down so that their faces were side by side in the mirror. “Have you worked it out?” he asked.

Loki nodded slowly. “My favourite hair length was at my shoulders,” he said. “It was long enough to be glorious, but short enough not to catch on the bloody furniture.”

Thor chuckled. “You will always be glorious,” he said and rose to head back to the bed.

Loki turned in his chair. “Thor?”

“Yes?”

Loki picked up the scissors and held them out. “Will you cut my hair for me?”

Thor smiled and came back.

“Shoulder length?” he confirmed, taking a lock of Loki’s hair gently in his hand.

“Shoulder length,” Loki confirmed, smiling at the sight of Thor, his husband and soulmate, in the mirror.

Thor carefully measured down to the right length and lined up the scissors.

Snip.


	102. Epilogue

Thor reached the throne and stood in front of Odin, who raised his arms and began to speak to the crowd.

It was an old speech, ancient words that Loki cared nothing for. He cared instead about the people in the room.

His mother stood beside him, and her new husband beside her. They had been given a place of honour as the parent and step-parent of a new King.

King Dorgen was close by, with Queen Mulmyr and their sons, and one tiny Granddaughter, only a few years old. Lyrren's wedding had been fun to go to, Loki reflected.

Behind them stood Camtan and Sofftia, with their two children, and Musleen and Daenceia. Musleen held his daughter up in his arms so that she could see. She was 264 years old and already had her father's watchful nature, along with her mother's grace.

Haewkyr, Smairken and their *four* children were further back in the crown somewhere, as were Lord Fallconyr and Eadgleyr, Hel, half the crowd on one side were cousins of Thor and Loki's.

Loki turned and peeked right to he back of the crowd, yes, there was a flash of red. Fosxyr had come as promised, and had stayed tucked into obscurity, as he preferred.

It had been a long time since Loki and Thor had said their vows, in Odin's workroom, barely more than children.

Loki had always thought of that moment as their true wedding, the big celebration they'd had centuries afterwards had just been to let everyone else know.

He touched the ring on his finger.

Time Does Not Rule My Heart.

'It never did,' Loki thought as Odin held out Gungnir and Thor wrapped his hand around the shaft. It took a long time and a lot of effort, trust, patience and work for them to be where they were now, but the one thing Loki had never done was stop loving Thor. 

Odin and Thor said the final words, officially passing the crown from one ruler to the next. But in the last moment, they both glanced over at Loki, who paused for just the briefest of seconds before nodding his head just slightly.

Thor would never take the throne without Loki at his side. Odin would never again force Loki into doing something for 'duty'. His consent was vital.

Odin relinquished Gungnir, and Thor turned to face the crowd.

Loki turned as well and scanned the faces of his friends and family as they cheered for the reign of King Thor and his consort, King Loki.

Yes, King. Because Loki was nobody's Queen.

His daughter, Muslia, glanced up at him with a yawn as the crowds roared.

"Time for bed, my little princess," Loki said. "You can play with your cousins and the other princes and princesses tomorrow."

Crown Prince Fallconyr hastily stopped rubbing his eyes. 

"But not me," he said quickly. "I'm going to the feast." 

"Yes you are," Loki confirmed. "Stay with your grandmother while I put your sister to bed."

He carried her through the corridors to the nursery, confident that she would be sleeping before she was even in her nightgown.

Crown Prince Fallconyr would one day become king of Asgard, but this little one had no such responsibilities.

"You are going to be anything you want to be," Loki told her as he tucked her in. He told her that every night, he never wanted her to remember a time when he hadn't said it.

"Love you Mummy," she said sleepily.

"I love you too," Loki said. 

He was content. He had been so for years. Thor being crowned was a new adventure, but it was one Loki was ready for.

"Found you."

Loki turned and looked at where Thor stood in the doorway.

"You should be at the feast, otherwise they'll think you've been kidnapped," Loki said.

"One time," Thor protested.

"Two times," Loki said.

"Oh, yeah, the Midgard thing," Thor said. "We had some fun with the Avengers, didn't we?"

"There's still fun to be had," Loki said.

Thor peeked at their youngest child, already asleep in her bed.

"You make everything I do fun," he said, leaning in and kissing Loki.

It was a golden moment. The second most special moment in the whole of time itself. Thor was covered in armour which dug into Loki's shirt, Thor's weight overbalanced them, almost causing them to fall over, and Loki accidentally put his boot on a squeaky toy. But still it was a pretty good moment.

All of his moments with Thor were pretty good moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's it. The story is complete.
> 
> Can I just take a moment to say something? I never thought, when I started this story, that it would be as long or as complicated as it ended up being. To everyone who started it with me and stuck with it through until now. Thank you. I would never have blamed you for bowing out at any time. It has taken years, and I have had so many things happen in my life while this story was being written. I hope you like the ending, I hope it worked out as you hoped it did. I truly do.
> 
> And to all the other readers, the ones who came in while this was a work in progress with a hundred chapters already done but a hundred more waiting to be written. Thank you to you too. That's a huge challenge to take on.
> 
> You both have my respect and gratitude for different reasons, and you are all awesome.
> 
> And finally, thank you to EvilConcubine. It was your prompt, I haven't forgotten, that led us all down this particular pathway. Thank you for the prompt, and thank you as well for still being here after so long. I hope you liked it.
> 
> Merry Christmas if you celebrate it, Happy Holidays if you don't, and if holidays aren't your thing, I hope you have a good day tomorrow anyway.


End file.
